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First Choice - Part 8
Part eight of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: anxiety, fluffiness, little bit of angst
They stayed the entire weekend showing you just how much they like you (get your mind out of the gutter). The apartment was cleaner than it had been in ages. Your laundry was done and put away to your specifications. Groceries had been purchased and put away, including all the produce you would never have prepped on your own.
And that’s not to say they didn’t dote on you too. Kyle drew up a bath for you both nights, complete with bubbles and face masks. He would sit with you, back against the tub as you two discovered you both loved self-care moments like these, especially since they were so rare for both of you.
Johnny was always insisting on touching you in some way, but in the way that he’d poke your side unexpectedly or tickle your feet. He told you he loved your smile and the way your laughter filled the empty silence.
Price took you out for lunch on Sunday, a lunch that took four hours when he insisted you two walk through the farmers market. It was there that you discovered Price had no clue what a zucchini was or that you could make bread with them.
And Ghost. Well, the thing about Ghost is he doesn’t talk much. But when you were all together in the living room at night, he was plastered to your side no matter where you went. Bathroom? Outside the door. Kitchen? Pressed up behind you to grab your cup for you. Sitting on the couch? You’re pressed to his side with his big arm draped around you.
When they left Sunday night, you were exhausted just from the sheer amount of socializing you’d done. So you called in on Monday. Spent the entire day sleeping, only to wake up from texts in a group chat you’d apparently been added to.
Price: “Why’d you call in, dove?” Johnny: “Hope we didn’t wear you out too bad.” Kyle: “You could have kicked us out, love” Ghost: “???”
You rubbed your eyes and read the messages with a mix of concern and adoration.
You: “How’d you guys know I didn’t go to work?” Price: “I was going to surprise you for lunch” You: “Uh that’s sweet. But how do you know where I work?”
You had refused to talk about your job, not wanting to think about your smarmy boss on your free time.
Price: “Badge was hanging off your purse. Saw it while we were there” You: “Oh.” You: “I just needed a little recuperation time. I loved having you guys over, but my social battery needed a recharge.”
A recharge that cost you a day of PTO and double your workload for tomorrow, on top of whatever nonsense your boss came up with in your absence.
You went back to work the next day to exactly that and your boss telling you that you needed to attend a gala that Friday evening. You groaned internally, having been planning on asking the boys over again.
You texted the group chat, asking if one of them could accompany you that night.
Price: “Sorry, dove. We have an event ourselves we’re required to attend.” Kyle: “Trust me, we’d rather spend the evening with you.”
You sighed and nodded, sending them a ‘thanks anyways’. Your fingers pressed against your temple, but soon got to work.
The week passed by both too slowly and too quick, leaving you standing in front of your mirror in the only black gown you owned. It was a bit snug, hugging your curves before fanning out around you in soft waves.
Being picked up by your boss was not the way you’d wanted this night to start, but in his words, he didn’t want you embarrassing him with your beat up little car. So slipping in beside him, you took long, deep breaths as you tried to figure out how long you’d be required to stay before being able to slip out the door.
An hour into the soiree and people were still filtering in while you were already two champagne glasses deep. And based on the four men that had just walked in with pretty little things on their arms, you had reached the end of your stay.
Rather spend the evening with you? Bullshit.
Couldn't help but slip a little angst into this. Thank you to everyone who have been so patient in waiting for this next part.
<- Part 7 Part 9 ->
#captain john price#call of duty x reader#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#poly!141#simon riley x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz#kyle garrick#kyle gaz x you#john price x reader#john price#john price x plus size reader#john price x you#Johnny soap mactavish x plus size reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#simon riley x plus size reader#kyle Garrick x plus size reader#tradgedyinwaves#141 x reader#poly 141#john soap mactavish
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twin skeletons | read on ao3
soulmate au, 2023 season | ~3k
it's uhhh kind of getting better but not really lads
——
Oberlungwitz, Germany
The last thing Marc wants is to answer the phone. He’s sore, pissed off, and fucking humiliated.
But he answers, because Valentino had called after Mandalika. And he’d called about the fourth surgery, sounding almost guilty—as if, for the first time in years, Marc had said something and he’d listened.
You didn’t call after Jerez.
He’s calling now. In fact, he won’t stop fucking calling.
“That bike is going to kill you.”
Marc sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t ask why do you care? because that answer is going to be more than he’s equipped to handle today. “It—it’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Marc.”
Despite it all, he’s never getting tired of this, of the sound of his name in Valentino’s mouth. It’s something, at least.
“Whatever. It’s bad. Not a lot I can do about it.”
They haven’t been careful, haven’t crept around each other to figure out this new version of themselves. Valentino calls, tells Marc he’s an idiot, almost cracks the lid off the pressure cooker of the last eight years, and Marc will hang up before it gets too dangerous.
And next time Valentino calls, he will answer.
This is an old argument, a well-worn path, one that’s hung between them since 2013.
“Shouldn’t even be telling you this,” Marc mutters. “You run fucking Ducatis.”
“Everyone can see the bike is bad,” Valentino says, pointed.
“Fucking—obviously.” Because this is Marc’s circuit. He doesn’t like expecting things, but he should be head and shoulders above the rest. He should not be riding a bucking animal down the waterfall, feeling it writhe underneath him like it wants to leave him a smear on the asphalt.
He should not be crashing five times at the Sachsenring.
He didn’t race in Indonesia, in the end, and he’d told himself it was Álex that persuaded him. Maybe that was easier than remembering how his name sounded when Valentino called that first time.
“I think I will not race,” he forces out, mirror-inverse of that conversation. “I might get hurt.”
Nothing. Just the silence to let him breathe. Marc’s grateful for it.
“I’ll be in Misano,” Valentino says softly.
“Of course you will.”
“Marc.”
“This is not—” He doesn’t know what he wants to say. This is not me forgiving you, maybe. Except he probably already has.
His arm aches, something deeper than his twice-broken bone, pulsing with his heartbeat. Valentino used to run his fingers over it, brushing the piece of his soul that lives under Marc’s skin over and over again. They used to—
Valentino used to curl his lip, used to act as if he thought Marc belonged to him. He doesn’t make the same demands he did back then, not since Mandalika, but they hover in the silence nonetheless. The worst thing is that Marc understands him now, understands why it scared him to have his life so intertwined with someone else’s.
But they’re still not okay.
Not for the first time, Marc wonders where they might be if he’d only lost the front in Indonesia, or if he’d only been flung over the handlebars, if his head hadn’t cracked against the asphalt. Not here, that’s for fucking sure.
He doesn’t say that, because Valentino isn’t a hair trigger anymore but he’ll make a guilty little sound that twists Marc’s stomach.
“I’ll see you in Italy,” he says instead, and the relief is visceral through the phone.
——
Misano Adriatico, Italy
As promised, Valentino is in Misano.
Of course he would be.
It doesn’t take him long to find Marc; he knows the place well, knows how to slip through the motorhome lot without being accosted. He knows just where to wait to catch Marc after his track walk, to beckon him with a tilt of his head.
Marc follows. Of course he does.
It’s—
They’ve seen each other, looked each other in the face (refused a handshake), since they fell apart, since Valentino retired. Since Mandalika. They haven’t truly looked at each other for a very long time.
He’s different, Marc realises. Older, yes, more stubble, curls winding out from beneath his cap, but more than that, he’s tired, mouth tight, eyes shadowed.
“It was a, ah, scary moment in Germany,” Valentino offers to the silence between them.
“Which one?” Marc mutters, then, “Scary for you or for me?” Another jab. Maybe he just wants to see if the soft underbelly is still there.
“Ah…” Valentino looks up, away, shrugs with his left shoulder. “Why are you—?” He stops.
“Why what?” Valentino should not get to ask anything, really, but Marc had answered the phone. He keeps answering. Keeps cracking the door a little wider.
He should stop. Probably. Maybe.
Valentino finally meets his gaze, eyes blank—hiding—and tilts his chin at Marc’s arm, at the healed scars, the ruined skin, the mark hidden under his T-shirt sleeve. “Does it still hurt?”
“It’s been worse,” Marc says slowly. It had been worse after the surgeries. It had been worse after Sepang.
Valentino half-reaches a hand out, eyes boring into Marc’s shoulder.
Marc swallows. “No.”
“Marc,” Valentino breathes, and before Marc can move away, there’s a hand on his right arm, a thumb brushing his mark.
It’s—
He closes his eyes, because then at least Valentino can’t see—but his body must give him away, must shudder as electricity snaps outwards from the contact. He doesn’t make a sound, thank God.
And then—he rips his arm free, slaps his hand over his mark, because Valentino does not get to do this. He was the one who didn’t want this, didn’t want them. He was the one who held Marc up in front of the world, in front of snapping jaws and hungry eyes, and said here, this one.
He was the one who—
“Fuck you,” Marc manages, and his soulmark throbs with the echo of a kick. Inch given, mile taken. He won’t make that mistake again. (He’s made it so many times before.) “Don’t do that.”
Valentino’s eyes are huge now, like he can’t understand—there’s the chink in the armour, Marc thinks with grim satisfaction. Except why is Valentino reaching out to him?
They stay as they are for an excruciating moment—Marc covering his soulmark, Valentino’s arm still outstretched—before someone rides past on a scooter, too close to their hiding place, and the scene shatters.
Valentino hasn’t touched his mark for nearly eight years. It had felt so good that Marc wants to throw up.
He flees before he can think too hard about it.
——
It must have been—
Here, Valentino was saying. Remember you belong to me. Remember I can do this.
Right?
I don’t want you, but we’re soulmates anyway. I hurt you. You can never really get away from me.
“Marc.” Álex’s voice makes him jump. “You’ve got the call in ten minutes, remember? Nadia and the team.”
“Yeah.” He stares at the kitchenette worktop, at Álex leaning over, at the part of himself on his brother’s wrist.
“Are you okay?”
“Is this the right thing to do?” Marc whispers.
“It’s just a meeting.” But Álex knows him, knows what he means. “You can’t stay on that bike. It’s going to kill you.”
The echo of Valentino’s words—Marc snaps his gaze up to his brother’s face. “I thought Honda—I thought I’d be there forever.”
“Forever is a long time.”
It is. Marc didn’t understand that when he was twenty-one.
“It’s just a phone call,” Álex continues. “No decision yet. You have some time to work it out, no? Remember your plan. You deserve to be on a fast bike.” Then he tilts his head. “What’s wrong?”
“The team—”
“Something else.” Of course Álex knows him better than anyone else.
(That’s what it should be like.)
“Valentino’s here.”
Álex makes a face. “It’s Misano.”
“He’s—he still calls me.”
Another face. “So?”
Marc rubs his right arm, an unconscious movement.
“You know what—I won’t tell you what to do.” Álex twists his lips together. “But you know what I think.”
“Yeah.”
——
He manages to avoid Valentino until Saturday morning; nowhere near long enough to gather his thoughts, but also—
It feels too long, somehow. He’s looking between motorhomes as he passes them, half-expecting to see the lanky figure waiting for him. He’s on his guard, that’s all it is. Can’t be caught unawares again.
It’s a tightrope, a careful tread, and they could fall, they could plummet. Valentino could kick his feet out from under him. Again.
Marc might believe it, if he didn’t know that Valentino has no need to: acts of self-sabotage well and truly over, he would never choose to reach for Marc again, would never pick up the phone, would never run his fingers over the imprint of himself unless he wanted to.
Maybe Marc hit his head so hard in Indonesia it knocked something loose in Valentino’s too.
He’s not surprised when Valentino appears, waiting. And Marc moves towards him, thread-pull, caught on the line of his unreadable stare.
“I’m sorry,” Valentino says when he’s close enough.
“You’re sorry.”
“Yes.”
Marc controls his expression after a long moment, snaps his mouth shut. “Um. Thank—thank you.”
“It was, ah, not right. To—” He makes a loose gesture. Can’t even say what he’s done, the line he’s crossed.
And yet Marc would have given anything, once, to hear Valentino apologise to him. “It’s—fine. Don’t worry about it.”
There’s a flicker, not disappointment but something close, as if he were expecting more of a struggle. Marc is past fighting.
His arm hurts and the bike is shit and he thinks—he thinks he’s going to Gresini. Giving up the fight.
Ho turns and walks away.
——
Valencia, Spain
He throws a bottle of water at the door once it’s closed behind Bezzecchi; it makes an unsatisfying thump, then a second one when it drops to the floor.
Fucking—kid. Holding Valentino’s grudges for him, so simplistic in his belief. Determined to make Marc’s shit day even worse.
Then he wipes his eyes, crusted with an afternoon’s worth of tears, and collects the bottle, quietly embarrassed at himself.
Santi’s hands on his shoulders had been a weight like never before, and he’d sobbed like a child—that’s his team, his family. And he fucking left them. He couldn’t stay, but—
But.
He scrubs underneath his nose, tries to sit in it just enough that he’ll be through it by tomorrow. Tomorrow means Gresini. Ducati. Start again.
There’s another knock on the door—not Álex, he wouldn’t bother—and if it’s Bezzecchi again, Marc is going to do something really stupid.
It’s not. It’s—
Valentino has his lips twisted together, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched. He’s staring somewhere to the left of Marc. “Hello.”
“Fuck, Vale, not now.” A slip. Marc curses himself, but the vitriol quiets when Valentino looks at him, finally looks at him again.
“I just wanted—” A long shrug. “It must be difficult. I—”
There’s no reason for him to be here—not a hard crash, not like in Germany or Indonesia, no reason for him to extend a hand again. It must be the same as Misano, as saying here I am, remember how we’re connected.
And—fine.
If Valentino wants to play that game, if he wants to reach out and say look, I’m here, I’ll always be here, then—Marc lives under his skin as well. He’ll always be there.
He steps to the side, stares at Valentino until he slips through the door, and makes sure to drag his gaze up Valentino’s arm, his shoulder, lingering on the piece of skin where both their soulmarks sit.
Valentino notices, says, “Marc,” like he’s facing down a feral animal, and follows it up with, “You’re upset,” as if Marc is the one being unreasonable, as if Marc is the one who’s been unreasonable for the last eighteen fucking months.
“No shit,” Marc hisses. The space between them may as well be an abyss. There’s a burning coal lodged in his sternum.
Valentino solves half the problem for him, drifting around the end of the sofa and coming to a halt half a step away. Uncharacteristic of him, to be so off-kilter, so unsure of himself.
Marc plunges in. His hand finds Valentino’s mark.
It’s barely a second, a gulp of breath, a thread wound between them, and then Valentino pushes him back so hard he almost stumbles. Marc opens his eyes, the instinct of an apology forming on his tongue—
Valentino kisses him.
It’s desperate-frantic-starving, teeth and gasps, hands in his hair, a grunt when his shoulder blades hit the motorhome wall. Finding his own hands useless at his sides, he blindly grabs at Valentino’s sleeve until he can touch it again. Familiar. As if it’s been minutes rather than years.
Valentino makes a noise like a groan, like he’s aching, and traces around the branch-twist of scars until he finds the mark. If Marc hadn’t been pressed against the wall, his legs would have given out when stars explode at the back of his skull.
They used to be so gentle, until they weren’t, until Marc rolled into the gravel or raced too hard or did something that made Valentino think of a future or a hundred other unconscious transgressions. They used to be so careful, except when they weren’t.
Marc grins, sharp against the corner of Valentino’s mouth, and curls his fingers into claws.
This is what you wanted. He digs in, just a little. Remember? You wanted to tear me out.
Another gasp, shuddering, and yeah, he can do it too. He’s still there.
He expects retaliation; it’s not as if he hasn’t had worse, after all. Valentino used to get there first, used to fight with nails and teeth, and Marc would capitulate. He expects the same now: a scratch, a bite, have nothing on the lingering shadow of his boot.
When Valentino says, “Marc,” he sounds like he did on the phone in the hospital in Lombok: the same wretched noise that meant stop, please, don’t hurt yourself; that made Marc listen when Álex told him not to ride; that meant you terrify me; that meant—
He swallows, relaxes his hand. Fucked it, maybe.
Except Valentino noses around Marc’s jaw and whispers, “Bed?” Like he’s asking. Like it’s ten years ago.
Like he cares what Marc wants.
For once, they want the same thing, so Marc twists his left arm and, impressing even himself, manages to open the bedroom door. There’s a huff into the crook of his neck, and he finds himself pushed backwards once again, going willingly this time because—
He doesn’t know why, and when Valentino drags his sleeve up, leans down, presses lips to his mark, it doesn’t matter.
It could be nine, ten years ago. It could be Marc, twenty-one years old, biting back a desperate sob at the shivering heat, lightning arcing through sinew, and it’s not ten years ago and he’s not twenty-one but he wants, he wants, he wants.
“Marc.” His name. Despite it all, he’s never getting tired of the sound of his name in Valentino’s mouth. “Marc—”
He tips his head back, allows himself to relax into it; his fingers wander through Valentino’s warm hair, gentle. An apology of sorts.
Missed you, his brain hums, and when Valentino rubs his mark, he can almost pretend they’re thinking the same thing.
Valentino’s hands move to his waist, to his jeans, careful now—he used to tug at Marc’s trousers, used to fumble the button in his eagerness, and this is foreign, delicate, so gentle.
“Okay?” Asking again.
“Fuck’s sake—yes—”
Another laugh. Some kind of record, surely. It’s insane. They must be going insane together.
He wishes he cared more.
He kicks off his trousers and lets Valentino push him onto the bed, lets him trail kisses across his neck, like they’re something after all. He pulls back, searching, eyes darting side-to-side, wanting—
Marc almost slams the brakes, almost sends himself crashing to the ground, but he wants and Valentino wants and like it or not, the universe chained them together for a reason.
And they were good, before it burned to ash. Before Valentino dropped the struck match he’d been carrying since Laguna Seca.
When Valentino rests his forehead against Marc’s shoulder and kisses his soulmark, Marc can almost believe it’s I’m sorry, I’m here. When he traces the outline of his soul on Valentino’s skin, he hopes it means I’m here, I’ll always be here, I didn’t leave you.
——
When Marc wakes up—
He’s warm, sheets kicked around his ankles, solid heat against his back, and Valentino had been here, had let Marc scratch and snarl, had kissed his soulmark like it meant something.
When Marc wakes up, there’s a hand on his arm, over his scars, over his mark, and it’s golden in his veins. For the first time in years, the bone-deep ache isn’t the only sensation in his right arm.
He doesn’t open his eyes.
It’s not long before Valentino shifts, inhales sharply the way he always did—still does, apparently—when he’s falling out of sleep. He groans deep in his chest, and freezes.
For a long moment, there’s nothing: no sound, no movement. Nothing, until Valentino extricates himself, moving as gently as if Marc is made of porcelain, and the warmth of his touch is gone from his mark.
Marc can’t help the sound he makes, pitiful, when Valentino disappears and the familiar bruised ache is back. He’s carried it in his soulmark for so long he’s forgotten how it feels, how it should feel—
Valentino sighs. His footsteps, halfway around the room, halfway through collecting shoes and his shirt, pause.
Marc does his best to smooth out his expression, to turn his face into the pillow like he’s still sleeping. If he opens his eyes, this will crack, splinter, collapse at his feet.
Another exhale, and impossibly, the steps move closer again. Valentino brushes his hand over Marc’s forehead—pinched, despite himself, like it so often is—then rubs a thumb over his soulmark.
And fuck it—Marc can’t help that he sighs, that he relaxes, that it feels so good to have his soulmate touch him again.
When Valentino says, “Marc,” on a breath, he sounds like he did at the start of them, in the hotel room in Monterey: reverent, careful, infinitely pained. The same way he used to say I love you.
The hand disappears. The door opens, closes.
Marc opens his eyes.
#rosquez#motogp rpf#ptsftp#marc marquez#valentino rossi#motogp fic#please like this it's literally 3000 words i humbly offer it to you#also sorry#part 4 of 5 hehe#cara.fic
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Feels ( Harsh) like Winter Wind
Here's Kelly's Pov. It's not really long but writing this came pretty natural when writing Feels (Warm) like Sunlight, and maybe it can add a little more context on the Kelly's part in Max's Pov.
I am still working on the Reader's Pov, so for that you'll have to wait a little bit more, sorry, but I hope you will still like this one.
Kelly knew this; she was neither stupid nor blind.
Feelings are still something fragile if not treated with proper care.
She knew perfectly well that relationships after a while reach a phase of stalemate, of monotony; it was normal, a routine was formed.
There was nothing strange about the fact that after a while the 'honeymoon' period ended; it was not like they were living in the world of fairy tales, where everything ended with a “happily ever after.”
That was the real world, and in the real world relationships after a while lost that booster effect given by serotonin
But Max almost didn't seem to know that. He always seemed to expect something extra, anything, and she couldn't figure out what more she could do, something she wasn't already doing.
A relationship was not a one-sided commitment, but she felt she was the only one who had been committed for a while. What was worse was that Max didn't even seem to notice what was happening.
It had been a while since Kelly had noticed how their relationship seemed to have suffered a jolt of some kind, but she had thought their estrangement was something temporary. Something due to the amount of work and travel that had increased for both of them in the last while. Something that would recover after they took time to readjust, resetting to their new priorities.
But that moment never seemed to come, and Kelly sensed it.
Max was not telling her something, something heavy, important, and that to her was a blatant sign that something was wrong, and the fact that he refused to confront was just another confirmation.
She really did not understand if he was immune to the tension present when she tried to bring up the subject, or if he really didn't perceive the slightest change in their relationship and what was happening was just in her head?
No, it was not in her head. Although she had hoped so, that she had imagined it all.
She had confirmed this when Max had begun to show up more rarely at her events. To give her less and less notice of his presence at those same events. Seeing them in the same place together had become a jackpot.
How could he have told her that rather than attend one of her fashion shows he would rather listen to you complain about yet another unnecessary purchase you had made for aesthetic reasons.
Kelly had come to know about it a few months later, and it had been lightning in a sky she thought was clearing.
Max had regained that light he had when she had first met him, and she had, perhaps naively, thought that their relationship was recovering, and finding out that it was not had hurt her more than she had thought.
Or perhaps she wanted to believe that their relationship could recover and pretend that the malicious thoughts that kept her from sleeping at night had never existed.
Penelope, with all the innocence typical of children, had asked if she could meet Maxie's friend, the one who worked in radio, because “Maxie is always happier when we hear her on the radio.Maxie is always happy, but when we listen to her broadcast he's happier. She sounds kind. Maxie says she is. And that she always has candy. Can we meet her mom?”
And Kelly was taken aback. She must have been lost in thought for longer than expected, because her daughter was looking at her worriedly, squeezing her hand with her own
“We'll see what can be done.”
That was what she had answered, because Penelope rarely asked her for anything, and she didn't want to say no. Not when she knew how much effort it had taken her daughter to make that request to her
It had taken her a while to connect your name to your own person:you had glimpsed each other at a few events you had both attended but she did not feel like she had ever interacted with you directly.
Yet she had the constant feeling that she knew you, a feeling that had settled at the pit of her stomach and then, it had simply clicked.
You were there at Max's races when he was still a rookie.
You were one of the few people Jos didn't seem to complain about. She should have remembered you for that alone, but in fairness, Kelly had never paid too much attention to what Jos said.
You were a friend of Max's, that's where she must have seen you.
But then you had disappeared.
It was justifiable that she had not remembered you immediately: you had never spoken, but you had frequented the same environment, at least for a while, that's why you looked familiar.
But it wasn't just that, the more she thought about where she might have seen you, the more she could think of an impressive number of conversations in which Max had mentioned you, little episodes that made his eyes sparkle.
There, at that very moment, she had connected the dots, and finally everything made sense.
Max had not become her Max again because of her, and maybe, just maybe, it had really only been hers for a short time, because Max had never spoken about her with that light in his eyes.
It was almost ironic, how Max was refusing to talk about you, when it was something he had always done inadvertently for so long.
She had waited until Penelope was with Daniil to broach the subject with Max: if he didn't want to do it, then she would take care of it, whether he wanted to or not.
Max could be aggressive even off the track when he was touched on a nerve, and you, it seemed from his reaction, were not just one nerve, you were the whole bundle.
At that moment there was no sign of the sweet and apprehensive Max, no,that Max had left room only for wrath and venom, and Kelly just wondered how it was possible that the police hadn't come knocking on their door asking them to tone it down, following the complaint of disturbing the peace that surely the neighbors had made because of their yelling.
They had not broken up well, not at all, and she had even tried to hate you for a while because of that.
She had really wanted to hate you.
You were the person who owned Max's heart, and you didn't even know it, while she felt betrayed.
It was your fault that Max had turned away from her. It was her right to hate you.
But it was not your fault that her relationship with Max had ended in such an unpleasant way.
Even though Kelly wanted so badly to blame you for something, anything.
You hadn't interacted with Max in years, probably since you stopped coming to his competitions, and she knew it. She knew because in her desperate search for something to make her hatred of you seem justified, Kelly had hoped to find even one article about the two of you.
But she had found nothing.
Even that had hurt her more than she thought.
And she couldn't hate you simply because you existed.
When she had seen the pictures of that grand opening, of the two of you on that terrace, of the look in Max's eyes, she had wanted to laugh.
But she hadn't been able to.
It was so obvious that Max would have pulled the moon out of the sky if you had asked him to.
It was obvious you would never ask him to do it for fear of getting hurt again.
Kelly knew this, she was neither stupid nor blind.
Feelings are still something fragile if not treated with proper care
#max verstappen imagine#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv33 fic#mv33 imagine#mv1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#kelly piquet#max x kelly#light angst
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thinking abt a zombie story i was writing w some friends years ago and i might just steal all the ideas and do something w it cause i dont think they ever will
#it was incredibly collaborative AKA i came up with all the cool stuff 💜#besides the main concept#being that the Group were all vidya players from around america who were itnernet friends#and when shit went to hell and the Grid went down one of them who was kind of a weirdo stalker finds them one by one#since they had already figured out where they lived (but never told them that)#i came up w the weirdo character. my beloved. their placeholder name was Vermont cause thats where they were from#also Vermont’s only friend irl who was also in the group went missing a few weeks before the initial breakout happened#and the story itself was like. YEARS after the initial boom. theres not a lot of ambulatory zombies left cause althey dont have shit to eat#so rlly its jsut a wasteland story with the occasional zombie issue#can reworkd that tho
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‘Bruce is Tim’s Biological Parent’ AU Idea #4
The fact that Bruce was Tim’s biological father was something of an open secret in the Drake household. Both Jack and Janet knew it. They both passed away before Tim ever met Bruce, but Janet’s parents had known as well. However, they never openly acknowledged it. Jack alluded to it the most often (usually when he feeling pissy about something or other) but but even then, he never outright said it.
Tim caught on early enough to subtly make comments here and there that Janet could confirm or deny (or ask what he was talking about). She confirmed while also making it clear that it was a family secret without ever explicitly stating that Jack wasn’t Tim’s father.
Once he started spending time at Wayne Manor, Tim figured out that Bruce was his biological father (based mainly on some comments Jack made when he heard his parents arguing about whether to let him continue to do so). Since he was used to it being a shared but unspoken secret, and since Bruce was supposed to be the world’s greatest detective, Tim figured Bruce knew, too. He made similar comments alluding to it early on and Bruce, not in the state of mind to truly pay attention to Tim, just didn’t catch on to ask questions or realize what the boy was saying. Tim took his responses as confirmation that Bruce was aware of the situation and it would just be more of the same (don’t ever say it aloud) at Wayne Manor.
So Tim never said anything.
Until Damian came along. Because Damian obviously wouldn’t know and his whole ‘trying to murder Tim’ issue was rooted in the belief that he was the only blood son who needed to eliminate the interloper. Therefore, Tim figured that telling Damian would be the first step to them coming together as a family (and him no longer having to watch that the little jerk wasn’t trying another attempt against his life).
“I think we need to tell Damian the family secret.”
“He already knows.”
“He does? Since when?”
“Talia told him I’m Batman from the beginning.”
“No, I know that. I meant the other family secret.”
“Which one?”
“The one we don’t talk about.”
“Hng?”
“Look, I know it’s gonna be weird ‘cause of the whole thing where we never talk about it, but he needs to know.”
“Needs to know what? What are you talking about?”
Which is how Tim realized that Bruce had no clue the whole time and how Bruce learned that he had two biological sons.
One of which he let live with an asshole and then a hired actor before he legally adopted him because he hadn’t figured out that the boy was already his. The other of which his ex managed to hide from him for ten years.
Dick and (later) Jason will never let him live it down.
Alfred will be so disappointed to learn they could have kept Tim like he'd wanted, after Jack woke from his coma.
#dc#comics#AU#fic ideas I haven't the time for#ficlet#tim drake#tim wayne#robin#bruce wayne#batman#janet drake#jack drake#damian wayne#bat family#batpups
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Mike has a feelings for you (fluff)
Prompt: While babysitting Abby she tells you that Mike has a crush on you
Pairing: Reader x Mike Schmidt
----
“I can’t believe I have to fucking work today,” Mike says, pulling his gray security shirt on. “I told them I can only work during the week!”
Your best friend scrambles around the living room, looking for his phone, keys, and wallet- all of which are in various places. You are currently sitting on the couch, watching all of this unfold. He was always leaving his items in various places. How many times had you told him to leave them in the same spot?
He finds his keys and phone and shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Where is my wallet?” he says, running his fingers through his already messy brown hair.
“Did you check your room?” you ask.
He quickly leaves the room and returns moments later with his wallet in his hand.
Mike let’s out a sigh and looks over at you. “Are you sure you’re ok watching her? I can always call Max.”
“I don’t mind watching her at all,” you tell him.
You stand up and walk over to your best friend. Wrapping your arms around his waist you pull him into a tight hug. He instantly relaxes and wraps his arms around you.
“You have no idea how amazing you are,” Mike tells you, smiling.
You laugh as Mike takes a step back and towards the front door.
“Thank you so much for watching her,” Mike calls. “I owe you!”
“Hey Abs,” you say, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “What are you drawing?”
Abby smiles and passes you the sheet of paper. There is a white house with a large tree and three people standing out front. A man, a woman, and a child.
“You have to tell me who everyone is,” you say, pointing to the three people.
Abby stands up and comes to sit besides you on the bed. Her small hand points to the man on the page, “That’s Mike,” she moves her hand to the woman, “you,” and points to the child, “and that’s me.”
You weren’t shocked that you were drawn- Abby tended to draw the three of you alot. Mike and you had been best friends since middle school and you loved Abby like she was your little sister. Most of her drawings were things the three of you had done together or what she wanted to do with the two of you.
“And who’s house is this?” you question.
“We all live there together,” Abby states.
“Oh, that sounds fun,” you reply.
“Yea! Because you and Mike are going to get married!”
Abby’s comment throws you off. Not once has she ever asked about your and her brother's relationship.
“What makes you think we’re getting married?”
“Because Mike has a crush on you,” Abby says, shrugging.
You laugh. “No he doesn’t.”
Abby nods her head. “Yes he does. He says your name a lot in his sleep.”
“But that doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you tell her.
Abby’s silent for a moment then answers quietly. “You make him smile and laugh and he’s always happy when you’re around. He’s not like that around anyone else.”
Her answer surprises you but kids are very perceptive. Instead of pressing any further, you tell Abby to start to get ready for bed.
“Do you have a crush on Mike?” Abby askes as you tuck her in to her bed.
“Oh…um…yea, I do,” you tell her.
Little does Abby know but you are in love with her brother.
Abby smiles and nods and you turn the light off, closing the door behind you as you walk back to the living room.
—-
Abby falls asleep quickly and you sit in the living room watching tv. Your mind keeps going back to conversation with Abby. Does Mike really have a crush on you?
Abby doesn't know it (well maybe she figured it out) but you’ve had feelings for Mike for a long time. You loved your relationship with Mike and didn’t want to jeopardize it so you never made any indication or moves towards him. You had hoped that maybe he would be the first one to make a move but he never did.
All of the sudden it hits you, how tired you are. You stand up from the couch and stretch and slowly walk back towards Mikes room. This isn’t the first time you had slept over. Many times after Abby had gone to sleep, you and Mike would stay up together, hanging out. At first Mike insisted that you sleep at his house but now he didn’t even have to say anything- you would just crash on his bed, next to him.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep and a few hours later, the bed dips slightly as Mike lays down next to you- waking you but only for a brief moment.
—-
The sun peeks through the curtains in Mikes room and the smell of bacon and pancakes wake you up from your sleep.
The spot on the bed next to you is disheveled -the only evidence that Mike has slept there.
As you lay in bed for another minute, you hear voices drifting down the hallway. You can’t make out what they are saying but you can tell it’s Mike and Abby.
Standing up, you walk into the hallway but hang back for a moment- waiting to see what they are talking about.
“Did you know that Y/N had a crush on you?” Abby tells Mike.
“How do you know?” you hear him ask.
“She told me,” Abby states matter of factly.
It’s then that you decide to walk into the small kitchen. Abby and Mike are both sitting at the small kitchen table, eating bacon and pancakes.
“Morning,” you say, walking over to the coffee maker.
“Morning,” Abby and Mike say at the same time.
Mike's hair is sticking up in various directions and he looks like he just woke up. His dark t-shirt hugs his frame and you know he’s wearing his favorite pair of flannel pajama pants.
“I’m going to go draw,” Abby says, leaving you and Mike alone in the kitchen.
Mike watches as you pour yourself a glass of coffee but don’t turn around to face him.
“So,” he begins. “Abby told me something interesting…”
“And what was that?” you question, although you already know the answer.
“She said that you have a crush on me.”
“Oh. Why would she say that?”
“She said that you told her you did.”
You turn around to face your best friend, your eyes locking with his. His cheeks are slightly pink and it makes you feel better that this conversation might be slightly embarrassing for him as well.
“I-uh-,” you stammer.
Mike stands up and walks over to you and your back presses against the counter. He slowly moves his hands to your waist, waiting to see how you’ll react. When you don’t move away, he grips your waist, his brown eyes locking with yours.
“What if I told you that I had a crush on you?” he says.
A soft smile crosses your lips and Mike reaches up and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles.
You move your arms up and snake them around his neck, waiting for him to make the next move. His body is pressed against yours and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.
Within moments, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before pulling away.
“Why did you stop?” you tease him.
He smiles as his presses his lips against yours and they move together, almost as if the two of you had done this before.
#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt fnatf#mike schmidt#mike schmidt fnaf#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson imagine#fnaf mike#fnaf mike schmidt#mike Schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#josh hutcherson x reader
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Getting Closer
Wanda x Fem!Reader
Summary: After finally indulging in a relationship with your stepmom, you found yourself in more situations involving Wanda’s careless behavior such as her secretly fucking you as your father’s in the same room.
Part 1(Make You Mine)
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x fem!reader, slight non/con, strap on(r receiving), strapwarming, fingers in mouth, RISKYYY sex, angry sex??, daddy issues, and mommy kink bc she’s just sooo, also kinda angsty/fluffy at the end
It’s been a couple weeks since your first time with Wanda. And ever since then, she had become a bit more clingy than expected. Actually more than clingy, just completely obsessed with you.
Almost every night Wanda came to your room, fucking you to relieve herself of both the sexual frustration from you and just the frustration from your father. The two haven’t been getting along at all, only having arguments every day even if they were over little things. Wanda couldn’t even bear sleeping with him, and just used the couch downstairs in the living room as a cover up of where she actually slept, your bed.
Not that you mind though. It was actually one of the best things that happened to you as you didn’t think your father was ever worthy of having such an endearing and beautiful wife like Wanda. She was the only person who actually cared for your well being, truth be told. Unlike your dad, she didn’t dismiss your feelings, always looking out for when you acted unusual and making sure there was something she could do to fix it. Her whole world and worries were about you, only you. Her sweet nature only got to the point where you questioned yourself, if you’d possibly fallen in love with her.
———————-
Around 5pm Wanda called you out to the living room, seemingly planned something. She was sat in the armchair, one of those sofas that would only fit for one. You walked towards her curiously, asking “You called?”
“Yeah, you wanna watch a movie with me?” She replied quickly with a charming smile, the one you grew even weaker for. Glancing at the tv screen, it displayed a familiar movie from the collection of DvDs you grew up watching. You figured it’d be fine to spend some time with her, noticing the need to be close to you she showed too. Though strangely, she had a blanket covering her lap despite the hotter conditioning within the house.
“Um, sure,” You said, moving to sit on her lap as she patted and gestured you to sit there, something that was considered normal as you’ve done it many times before now. However, as you sat down you felt something hard poking your thighs. Your head turned to look back at her questionably, your eyebrows furrowed. “Wanda..?”
In response, she only smirked and moved her hands to your waist, pulling you back to push her front against your body. You let out a small gasp upon feeling her breasts pressed up on your back and as the lead-up happened all so quickly. “I need you really bad today, sweetie.” She said, her voice low in your ear. She moved one hand down to roughly tug down the blanket out and from under you, revealing the toy she hid. It was a large strap on that she had used on you before, though you’ve never taken the whole thing before. The deep red of it was an appealing color to Wanda’s character, and you thoroughly found it arousing to see her with it.
The toy was then in between your thighs, slightly pressed up against your clothed center. “Could you be a dear and help mommy out?” She asked you as her hand squeezed your side, her control already leaving her like always.
You shyly nodded as her soft tone made your head feel cloudy, reaching for the waistband of your shorts and underwear to pull them down once you stood up a bit. Wanda assisted you in doing so, and quickly pulled them down because she just desperately wanted to get straight to the point. She positioned the strap to align with your entrance, already finding you wet. Once the tip was in, she got ahold of your waist again, carefully lowering you down on the big shaft.
“I’ll go slow, don’t worry,” Wanda reassured you. There was small whine that left your mouth as it barely fit and got halfway. She shushed you, rubbing your sides in the hopes that you’d relax more. Still, as she kept pushing you down, tears quickly built up and your hands found their way to Wanda’s thighs under you, squeezing tightly. A loud whimper came out as your breathing also quickened. “I know, I know baby, it’s big. Just breathe in and out.”
You knew Wanda always made sure you were okay before doing something, but she was at times an impatient woman. Ergo, leading to her unexpectedly force you down fully. You yelped and had a tighter grip on her, though not strong enough to hurt her. Your legs kicked a bit helplessly as you were stuck with her inside and buried in you to the brim. Another whine left your throat, “Mommy…”
“It’s okay, I won’t move. I just want you to sit on mommy’s cock for a little while, okay? Just focus on the tv, sweetie,” Wanda responded, her voice sounding sickly sweet. She lifted her hand to your cheek, turning your head to face forward instead of her. Her eyes trailed your body, noticing the hardening nipples showing through the shirt you were wearing. One hand went under the fabric, creeping up to aggressively grope your chest, only making you moan as you began to focus on that instead of the bruising feeling within your cunt.
She kept this up for about half an hour, teasing your body and making you drenched around her cock. As time passed, you grew needier and eager for her to move, but she showed no signs of wanting to. You shifted bit in her lap, biting your inner cheek as the toy hit a spot that made you quietly moan. Wanda of course witnessed the entire thing, not paying a single ounce of her attention on the screen in front of her, only her favorite girl. She smirked at your desperation beginning to show, and only stopped you as her hands tightly held you still. “What did I say? Focus on the movie.”
“But I-“
The sound of the front door alerted you two and stopped you from continuing. Both you and Wanda turned to the direction of it, only to hear the familiar noise of your father barging in. Panicking, you tried to lift yourself up. However, Wanda had other plans as she kept her hold on you, giving you a look of authority to keep you from moving. Despite his unexpected return, Wanda was awfully calm, like she didn’t even care if you’d get caught getting fucked by his wife.
The footsteps were getting closer, making you sweat nervously as you stared between Wanda and where the hallway met the living room.
“Hey, is Wanda here?” Your father asked, seeing your head positioned slightly above the headrest of the armchair once he came into view. Considering the size of the chair and the way it was positioned, you guessed that Wanda wasn’t visible in his perspective. You turned your body a bit and moved your head to where the back of the chair didn’t block your eyes, resting an elbow on the armrest as you looked behind at him.
“I-“ you felt a small yet effective upward movement of Wanda’s hips that caused you to bite your lip hard, causing it to slowly bleed out. Any feeling of her moving inside your sensitive walls made you see stars. Your father looked at you, confused at the sudden pause. Wanda held a smug look on her face as her hands were on your waist, and noticing how you weren’t responding quick enough, she dug her nails into your skin. The action made you surprised and stutter out an answer to him, trying your best to ignore the pain and pleasure that came from the woman underneath you. “S-She’s probably out buying groceries.”
He only responded with a silent nod, no longer looking at you and focusing on searching for something from his pocket. Confused on why he was even home at this time, you asked “What are you doing here anyway? S-Shouldn’t you be at work..?”
Your father still wasn’t looking at you as he patted down his jacket. “Uh yeah I got off work early… but I think I have to go back. I forgot my wallet,”he said, sighing loudly as he didn’t find it anywhere.
“You should probably go then…” you said, a noticeable quiver in your voice. Wanda still kept thrusting gently into you, the entire thing going in and out. You looked down at her face for second which showed a pleasured and teasing look as her eyes zeroed in on how you were taking it. Your lip was also still trapped between your teeth, and you tasted metal off the tip of your tongue.
“Alright, I’ll be back later then. Make sure Wanda starts dinner, I’m starving.”
That last comment made Wanda thrust inside your cunt brutally. A whimper escaped as you immediately put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it hard enough to make her stop. Her face then showed irritation and annoyance, staring off to the side. Luckily your father’s ears seemed to lack hearing, something you noticed as he hadn’t questioned the screaming coming from your room every night at all. He quickly left the house, leaving you stuck on top of his wife who he aggravated.
Out of nowhere, she brought her hands down to your ass, lifting you up from her strap. As you shakily stood, it allowed Wanda to drag you to the longer couch, pushing you down on it so you laid and faced upward. She took the hem of your shirt before pulling it off you in a careless manner.
“God, I’m so fucking sick of him…” she said, her voice deep and raspy as her eyes happened to have darken. Her hand took the toy and positioned it back to your pussy, only this time pushing in swiftly and roughly. You cried out and winced at the feeling of being stretched again, gripping onto the soft cushions underneath you. Wanda set off a fast pace and slammed into you without any remorse.
“W-Wanda slow down- please,” you begged, tears beginning to form once again. Wanda only ignored the plea, holding up your thighs from underneath and pushing them up against your chest to get better access. Your mouth fell open, moans spilling as the pain quickly faded into something pleasurable. You shut your eyes, letting Wanda take all her frustrations out on you now. Your orgasm was soon just seconds away, already built up from warming her cock earlier.
“There you go, cum for mommy,” she said, panting heavily as she continued the forceful thrusts and felt your walls tightening around the strap. Once her words registered, you came and let out noises you didn’t even know were possible out of your mouth. Wanda fucked you through it, letting you ride out your orgasm, but not letting up and making you build up to a second. You cried out again for her to stop, reaching out with one hand to push against her pelvis in attempt.
“Shh… you can take it,” she spoke, smiling sadistically down at you as tears kept falling. You shook your head no repeatedly and vigorously. Your noises and crying didn’t stop either, so to silence it, Wanda took two fingers and shoved them into your already gaping mouth, shutting you up. “Uh huh… so much better when you’re quiet and letting me have my way.”
You whined around her fingers, causing her to only push them deeper and making you gag. Finding it hot, she kept pushing her fingers back in and out, loving the way you choked on her thin yet long digits. It followed a similar pace as her hips, and this time she was pounding you into the couch. “Fuck, you love it when I stuff your holes like this huh? Filled up with all of me?”
Lost in your mind, you now nodded desperately feeling her beginning to hit your g spot over and over again. Drool leaked around Wanda’s fingers and your mouth, following the tears that layered your cheeks. She was feral at the sight of that and it only pushed her to fuck into you deeper and harder. Now coming closer to another orgasm, you whimpered aloud and gripped the wrist of Wanda’s hand that was near your mouth.
Your body shook tremendously once your climax hits you hard, more than the first. Wanda’s fingers left your mouth, a string of saliva following. And her movements continued, but a lot slower thankfully. Still, the overstimulation was overwhelming. “M-Mommy too much, I can’t…” you helplessly said as your voice was shriveled and weak. She had a small upward curve of her lips due to your adorableness from the aftershocks of an orgasm, then soon coming to a halt. She slowly pulled out, watching your pussy leave a mess as it leaked onto the couch.
Fighting the urge to just put her cock back in and fuck you stupid again, she breathed out heavily and took the strap off. Wanda leaned down to give you a kiss, a meaningful one as it lasted longer than most. “You’re so perfect baby… did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” She whispered against your ear once you sat up slowly and against her chest with her help. It was already sore in different parts of your body, but especially your abused center and bruised thigh. Wanda wiped off the wet spots on your face, softly cradling the back of your head. “You okay?”
“Mhm…” you hummed in response, nodding slowly. She smiled cutely at you, now no longer thinking of anything else. She placed light feather kisses all around your face, causing you to also smile at her adoring aftercare.
“Good,” she said softly as her fingers ran through your hair. Her other arm wrapped around your body, pulling you into her more once she leaned back on the couch. Your head laid peacefully against her within this moment of silence. You then looked up from her neck to see her already looking down at you with a blush on her face along with her eyebrows knitted together forming small wrinkles between. It was like she wanted to tell you something, and knowing her, it was, because she always looked at you with that same expression when she felt vulnerable around you.
“I love you.”
The words that came from her mouth weren’t exactly unanticipated but you were still surprised. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and your face became a darker shade as well, matching the warm cheeks that Wanda had. She looked at you nervously as you took time to respond, not sure if it was too soon after the session.
“I love you too,” you replied, gazing up at her lovingly. She raised her eyebrows in surprise at your response, the overthinking and insecurities preventing her from expecting the answer she wished for. A grin grew on her face once she saw your cute expression. She cupped your face, pulling you into another deep kiss.
“I wish I met you sooner,” she whispered between kisses, thinking about how different it could’ve been without your father in the picture. You smiled, yet inwardly frowned at her words, finding them true as they proved the reality you created in your head false. That maybe you weren’t able to keep whatever this relationship was up in spite of the love you shared.
#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#mommy!wanda#scarlet witch#lesbian#elizabeth olsen#top!wanda#fem!reader#i need her so bad
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Practice Makes Perfect
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 11
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)
✧ Word Count : 8.9k
AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by annon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo
ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)
Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze.
Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.
He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.
You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.
And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.
The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.
But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was.
But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.
Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”
It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.
He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”
“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.
You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”
“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”
“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.
He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.
“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.
“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”
You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.
He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.
Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.
“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.
Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”
He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”
You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”
“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.
You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”
“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”
He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.
He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”
You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”
He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”
“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.
A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”
You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.
Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.
He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.
You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”
The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”
“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”
He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”
A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die.
Apparently, the conversation could get worse.
Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”
Oh for the love of God.
Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.
“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.
A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.
“Shut up.”
Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”
“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.
He blinked, “No.”
You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.
You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”
His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”
“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.
He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.
His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted.
But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired.
Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.
You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.
His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.
“Is there someone you have feelings for?"
His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"
"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.
He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.
“Nah.” he said simply.
You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.
He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.
“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.
He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”
You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.
Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.
“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.
“Always.” you promised in return.
An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.
Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.
Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out.
The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.
He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.
Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.
You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”
Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.
“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”
He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”
Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”
He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”
“Mhm.” you nodded.
He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin…bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”
Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”
“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.
You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.
So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”
He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”
“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.
“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.
Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.
On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.
Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.
He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.
But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.
Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.
“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.
You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.
Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.
“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond.
You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.
Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go.
The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.
“Daryl?”
His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.
“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.
You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”
“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.
With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.
The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.
Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.
“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.
You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”
He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.
You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”
He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”
“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”
“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”
Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.
“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”
“I want to.”
Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.
“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.
You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”
He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.
Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”
You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.
He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.
“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”
He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”
With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.
Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground.
He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.
Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.
He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”
“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”
Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.
In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.
His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.
This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.
You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.
You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.
Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”
“You’ve thought about this before?”
He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”
A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”
He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.
“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”
Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.
“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.
The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.
“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.
You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”
He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”
A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.
Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.
“You wanna take that off for me?”
Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.
It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold.
But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.
Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.
“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."
A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.
You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.
Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.
He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.
You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.
“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”
A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.
Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.
In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.
As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.
He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.
Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.
His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.
Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.
And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”
He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.
He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.
It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.
But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.
All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.
“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.
Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”
He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.
“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”
The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.
He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.
You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.
He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.
“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.
He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.
“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.
You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”
He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”
Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.
“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.
“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.
~ Thanks for reading!
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x y/n#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead#twd#twd daryl dixon#twd fanfiction#twd daryl
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Yan! Batfam x Teacher! Batmom
All platonic besides Bruce
First off, you were Dick’s teacher at Gotham Academy, and the most sympathetic to him. You knew how hard the transition was, especially since he had learned on his feet most of his life, so you decided to have most of your classes on their feet at some point, and offered him help with homework
Dick absolutely adored you. He was suspicious at first, but after a little while he grew way more comfortable. The change from the circus way of life to living in a city permanently and having to go to school was astronomical. You were the only teacher who seemed to realize that and try to help him. You threw a ball around for the class to answer things, played games to help people learn, and comforted/defended him when people looked down on him for his background.
People learned very quickly not to complain about you or your class, otherwise they would have to deal with ‘pranks’ like being doxxed, having their things ending up in trees, and their parents deals falling through.
On the first parent teacher night, Dick dragged Bruce over to you. Bruce had already heard of you from Dick and done his own surface level research on you.
The minute this man met you, he understood why Dick loved you so much. You just gave this aura of light and comfort that no one else could ever measure. You were kind and understanding and sweet.
(Note, Bruce isn’t completely yandere yet. He is starting to be, but I like slow burn. Dick is 100% yandere though.)
Dick threw a major tantrum when he learned he would have to leave your class. He was aggressive and started purposefully failing your class. It got to the point where you called a meeting between you and Bruce and Dick where you talked about everything.
You met with them at the manor, and after a few minutes, you managed to get it out of Dick why he was upset. You quietly told Dick that while you would miss him too, you would be very upset if he stayed back for him.
However, Bruce and Alfred managed a solution. With a few bribes to the school, they started a theatre club that you would run(they did research and knew you liked theatre) and that Dick would be your assistant, and he would still have the option after he graduated.
Everything was back to normal for you, besides the fact that all of your dates never lasted anymore. You couldn’t figure out why?
Then, Jason Todd was enrolled in your class
I hope you guys like this! This is my series for Romantic Yan! Bruce x Reader.
#yandere#yandere prompt#yandere batfam x reader#romantic yandere#platonic yandere#yandere Batfam x teacher! reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere bruce wayne
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She’s Not Mad
Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways.
Words: 9k (if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been...)
Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn
A/N: thanks for the patience!
Masterlist
A Couple of Weeks Ago…
“So, you’re not a thing?” Bucky asked as he shoved his laptop and notebook back into his bag, grabbing the handle of his water bottle and choosing to carry it with him for the walk.
The two boys were higher up in the rows of the lecture hall as they peered over the two girls talking to the professor. Steve had his eyes drilled into Natasha, the girl standing off to the side as her friend went over a question she had.
“She told me she is still figuring out her feelings since her last serious relationship,” Steve sighed as he packed up as well, “and I told her I’d wait- apparently this guy’s parents had given their family engagement ring and everything.”
Bucky pulled the corner of his lips out tight as they began to walk down the stairs, “who’s the other girl?”
“The one that was just asking the question is Y/N,” Steve watched as both girls left the room, “good friends, met last year, live together now.”
“She’s cute,” Bucky said purely, no smirk or innuendo.
********
You sat over your laptop in the library with both hands acting as a brim to cover your eyes from the people around you. Tears rolled down your face as you studied the practice question, you felt pathetic and you tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. If anyone saw you silently bawling you’d drop out, it was stupid enough already when the librarian walked over and dropped a tissue box off without saying a word.
“What do you mean?” you whispered to the page for the hundredth time, hoping for some answer.
You had done the homework, you went to the study groups, you even extended your prof's office hours because you wanted to make sure you were doing everything right. Yet here you were, sitting alone on a Friday night because you still can’t do the practice assignment. Quitting felt like the only option, it wasn’t like everything was going to click; it was too late.
This was just going to become the thing that you could never do, simple as that. Sometimes there are subjects that no matter how hard you try, you don’t have the flair. It was a tough pill to swallow but you’d never be able to do any work if you’d continue to hold yourself to a high standard, it was a win to get the little things right, not the entire question.
The idea of failing was new to you. The jump from high school to college was still something you never adapted to, you always expected nineties on everything and not the mindset that C’s get degrees.
Trying to do the question was like beating a dead horse, you needed a break. You ran your hands over your face and leaned back in your chair, hearing pops from your back as you did so, until you were leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. When you looked straight you saw someone already staring at you.
He had longer brown hair that hit his jawline, blue eyes that jumped out at you, and a very concerned look on his face. He was familiar but you didn’t know what it was from.
“Are you Natasha’s friend?” The guy came up to your empty table.
“Yeah?” You wiped away your tears, extremely confused as he pulled out the chair right beside you to sit at the eight sided table.
“I’m good friends with Steve, I think the two of them have something going on- not important, but I kind of know you and I'd rather not leave someone I kinda know alone crying, so…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” you rolled your eyes and faced your computer again, “the absolute last thing I need is something watching me cry, alright?” your bottom lip wobbled as you kept your eyes away from his at all times.
He was still staring at you, “come on,” he sighed and moved his hand to comfort you but thought otherwise, “I’m not going to laugh at you or run and tell everyone I know I saw a girl crying in the library- y’know what they’d say?” You could see him tilt his head, “they’d say what’s the big deal, haven’t we all?”
You scoffed, “no they wouldn’t.”
“You’re calling me a liar?”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Bucky,” he stuck out his hand, “Bucky Barnes.” You shook his hand, “and since I am a Barnes and was raised by my ma I simply can not let this continue, it’s my obligation to either cheer you up or take you home.”
You scoffed again and tried your best to hide your smile, “and I’m Y/N, and in my family we stress about everything and never give up so I can’t leave until I get this question, so…”
Bucky’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he flipped the laptop to face him a little better, “this is the class all four of us have together, alright,” he read over the question and immediately furrowed his brows before looking at you again, trying your best to hold it together. He knew the answer but couldn’t bear to see your reaction, it was painfully obvious you were beating yourself stupid over these questions.
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked like he was talking to a child.
“I barely know you, dude,” you crossed your arms and ripped your laptop back to face you, “and I’ll have you know I don’t need a man to come in here and explain everything to me, alright, I’m going to figure this out on my own and I don’t need you, okay? So just head home, tell Steve I say hi.”
Bucky took a deep breath himself, “that question isn’t marked on the homework, the reason you can’t get the answer is because the way to get it has most likely not been taught yet,” he paused and saw your face crumble, “and I didn’t want to freak you out because you look like you’ve been here a while and you seem to be beating yourself up and I just couldn’t-”
“Stop,” you whispered and covered your face with your hands, “just stop talking.”
And he did.
Trying your best to calm your breaths, it didn’t work. So fucking stupid, unbelievable, there’s no way you just spent close to an hour staring at a problem you didn’t even have to do in the first place.
“Can you walk me home?” you squeeked.
“Of course,” Bucky stood up right away and started helping you pack your bag, “I have some water, do you want it?” He held up his water bottle. You nodded and began drinking as you both made your way outside and towards your off-campus house.
“Did you need to study?” you asked as you screwed on the cap.
Bucky laughed and looked up at the night sky, “I was going for a walk because I heard there was a blood moon tonight, and there is, look,” he point up and saw the red mood looming above both of you, “and I just happened to walk past the library, I looked in the window and recognised your laptop as well as your hair, funny enough,” he laughed as he looked forward again.
“So you just came in to see me?” you needed to make sure you were hearing this right, it’s not like it happens often.
“I was going to introduce myself to you actually,” Bucky shrugged and looked over at you, “I know Steve and Nat are trying to figure things out and I thought friends of two people who might date should know one another. Then I saw you crying so I changed my game plan.”
You just nodded, slightly brushing into Bucky’s arm as you walked. It was hard to stay straight with the exhaustion taking over, every now and then you’d brush your knuckles past Bucky’s. He was a cute guy, and something about him being oh so caution around you made you feel important.
“This is me,” you said later as you walked up the steps, “thanks Bucky, I hope we can be friends.”
Bucky smiled and stood at the bottom of the steps, “if you ever get in your head again like that and need someone to pull you away, let me know- even in the middle of the night, alright?”
“Alright,” you laughed with your hand on the door handle.
“I’m serious, Y/N. I look after the people close to me, I look after friends of friends like siblings,” there was no joking in his tone, it seemed other people doubted him on this promise. “I’ll give you my number,” he hand reached out for your phone.
“I’ll be fine, you seemed to have good luck running into me,” you giggle and open the door to your house. Before it fully closed you felt resistance, looking over your shoulder you saw Bucky holding open your door.
He was smiling, “then give me your number for another reason.”
“Oh?” you turned and placed a hand on your chest, “you’re rather forward.
“Well being cryptic didn’t work, did it?” He laughed and held out his hand again, “come on, I might need a study buddy one day- or even better, a lunch buddy.” you laughed as he tried to duck to meet your eyeline, “you don’t want to be my lunch buddy?”
“I’ll be your lunch buddy,” you giggled and handed him your phone, he wasted no time adding it in. “Goodnight,” you whispered and made it into your house, leaning back and resting against the door. You thought for a moment before breaking into a massive smile, replaying how he tried to keep eye contact with you. Or how he’d been so proud of how his mother raised him- “son of a bitch,” you whispered.
He walked you back home and cheered you up.
Just like he said he would.
A Few Days Later…
Your phone must be hacked or something because your weather app said it would be completely clear today and sunny in the afternoon. As you sat in the cafe you thought it would clear up but it was only getting worse.
All you needed to do was brave the rain and make your way home, but waiting for the perfect time when everything would let up for a moment was pointless.
Walking as fast as you can with your head down, you saw your grey sweatpants become a darker shade instantly. It was a straight downpour with absolutely no sign of letting up, you swore you heard thunder when you waited at the crosswalk. Due to your phone lying to you, you had not brought a hooded article of clothing or umbrella so you just had to deal with everything going wrong.
There definitely was thunder and the lightning was right above you, it seemed like you were the last person on Earth because everyone else was smart enough to stay inside right now; but not you. Down your little street you began to run, trying to get away from the lightning that was chasing you.
If you could guess you’d say most people who had been struck by lightning most likely thought they were too far away, in denial as the sky opened up from above. It was hard to admit you were actually a little scared at that moment, rain getting in your eyes as you sprinted down to your house that was now in view.
With your key at the ready you fell inside, slamming the door behind you.
Natasha rounded the corner, “you idiot, I was trying to call you!” She screamed and saw your state, “Steve and Bucky are over-they drove over they could have picked you up,” Natasha got in your face to peel off the sweater, taking it off right over your head and leaving you in your bralette and those drenched sweatpants.
“You took off my shirt when there’s boys here?” you whispered as you began to shake, covering your chest with crossed arms.
“We guessed you were walking back so we put towels in the dryer,” as if on cue Bucky rounded the same corner with your fluffy towel ready, “thank you Bucky,” Natasha wrapped it around your shoulders.
“Hi, Bucky,” you squeeked, “glad we keep meeting like this.”
Natasha had walked upstairs, most likely getting different pants. Bucky got down on one knee and slipped off your shoes, “like what?” he asked as he looked up, he reminded you of a little puppy somehow. He was as big as a great dane but there was an underlying softness that made you want to hug him or just let him wrap his arm around you.
You huffed as you pulled the towel tighter, “when I’ve just done something embarrassing and you’re there to save the day.”
Bucky stood up with his arms crossed, “only you would think crying or getting caught in the rain is embarrassing,” he shook his head and reached out to rub your shoulder that was covered by the towel, “I like helping and I like making sure people I know are okay, you know this.”
“I do,” you whispered and walked further in your house. Before you could get anywhere near comfortable Natasha whisked you away to change your soggy pants as well as throw on a sweater, they had also been thrown in the drier, everything was very toasty and warm.
Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at the football game going on. Natasha guided you back in and towards the couch. There was enough room for four of you but you knew thighs would be pressed up against one another, you were okay with that if Bucky was sitting beside you. Though you don’t see him often it was nice when you did even though you made it seem like it was embarrassing. Something about having someone who loves taking care of people take care of you so well caused you to crave it a little more.
Bucky came around the couch with a mug, “hot chocolate for you,” he whispered and took the spot beside you, next to the arm rest. You thanked him and let your hand slightly burn on the mug when you held it, liking how the warmth began to spread up your arms. Natasha found her spot on the other side of you while Steve stayed on the edge, leaning forward and never looking away from the game.
“This is really good,” you sipped it and whispered to Bucky, he just smiled and leaned into your side for a moment.
“What were you working on?” he asked after a moment.
“I was at the cafe for a little treat but before I was doing my elective course,” you spoke softly. It seemed like everything happened for a reason because you only got food at the cafe which left room for this hot chocolate now.
“And that is?” Bucky giggled as he leaned forward again.
“Art history,” suddenly, you were coy. Most people thought your elective was a bird course but to you it was actually interesting, it wasn’t often you were met with a positive response.
His eyes got wide, “that’s sick!” Bucky readjusted himself off the couch, “I would have never even thought of that course, wow, that’s really cool. So, like, what do you-”
“Bucky, I love you, brother, I really do but-” Steve sighed, “can you please be quiet, this game is very important.”
“I didn’t think the Big Game was on today?” you asked as you took another sip.
“It’s not that,” Steve places his beer down, “it’s the State Cup Finals, it’s college football.”
Natasha smiled and looked over, “his team’s the underdog and are actually on the road to winning the entire thing!” She giggled and linked an arm with Steve who was happy to cuddle up with her, “it’s actually very exciting once you learn the ins and outs of it.”
You just nodded and faced forward again, seeing Bucky out of the corner of your eyes rubbing his thumb on the neck of his beer bottle, staring off into space. The moment you leaned your head on his shoulder he looked over at you, your heart broke when you saw a sad smile. He was just trying to talk to you, he got excited for you and here he was being scolded.
“Do you want to come look at some of my notes, or are you into this game?” you whispered and saw his eyes light up, both of you quickly stood and headed up stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder.
The moment you walked into your room you felt everything slow down, Bucky slowly walked in and looked around. He was smiling to himself as he l took in your photos on the walls or posters, even your to do list seemingly growing on the white board you have mounted to one wall.
You sat on the corner of your bed as he flipped through your notes, “so you’re, like, breaking down these paintings, it's not just the history of when they were painted?”
“Oh yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your dry sweater, “most of these artist go insane and we look for that in the work or even just what was happening during the time with stuff that you’d learn in a normal history class but we look at if and when it get put into art,” this was your little thing you could talk about for ages, “very cool stuff.”
Bucky nodded and flipped the pages, “your notes are amazing,” he whispered, “you’re a pretty good student, huh?” he looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there, just staring at him as he made his way around your room. “What?” he giggled and made his way over to you, holding his hand out to get you to stand up.
“Nothing,” you tucked your chin to your chest, getting coy at the attention. “You’re just…y’know, sweet.”
Bucky just smiled and rubbed your arm, giggling as you both stared at one another for a moment. “Do you want to go back down?”
“Sure,” you nodded and leaned forward, smiling as you both made your way back downstairs.
The rain still worked its way down your windows as the beers and wine kept flowing. The game had ended a while ago but Steve and Bucky didn’t see a reason to leave, it was a good moment that no one wanted to end. You had finished your hot chocolate and moved onto wine, sipping it slowly as everyone talked. It was nice to be brought into this group even though it stemmed from Nat and Steve, there was good chemistry between the four of you.
Talking to everyone was effortless, you didn’t need to act like someone else to fit in. no one was yelling over someone else to get their point across, there weren't any passive aggressive tones in anyone's jokes, it was carefree. It was relaxing to have people this easy to talk to.
The only thing that wasn’t relaxing was the amount of times you caught Bucky staring at you. Everyone had migrated to the floor with their backs against different furniture so you could break out the board games, Bucky was sitting adjacent to you on your right and Steve adjacent on your left, Nat right in front. Every single move whether it be placing a card down or moving your little object around the board Bucky would find a reason to look at you.
“Good one,” he’d pat your shoulder.
“Let me move your piece for you,” he’d say before you could reach across the table.
“Sorry…” he’d smile before taking your little object and moving it back four spots.
He was very attentive, always watching and scanning. But the more you noticed it the more you figured out he was doing it to everyone, including Steve. Something happened whenever Bucky would either move Steve’s piece for him or go get another beer so he wouldn’t have to stand up, Steve would give this look. It seemed as though he was silently telling Bucky he knew something or he was pointing something out that had been a topic of conversation before. Bucky would try to laugh it off but Steve was very protective of Bucky, you just didn’t know why.
The games had slowly come to a close, everyone not drunk but a little more than tipsy. Giggles flowed freely around the table as the conversation resumed again, your eyes were growing heavy as you traced the rim of your glass.
“I’ll be back,” Bucky muttered as he headed to the washroom.
The moment the door closed Steve sighed, “this kid.”
“What?” you were getting protective, why was Steve about to talk shit about his best friend?
Steve just shook his head, “It’s hard to see how badly Winnie fucked him up.”
Your heart plummeted. Any tiredness had left your body faster than the little gasp escaped your lips. Who was this Winnie girl and why did he mess Bucky up? The thoughts circled your head, was he in an abusive relationship? Natasha looked like she didn’t know either, pouring more wine into her cup.
When Bucky came back he sat closer to you and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrapped your arm around his. He must have been a little surprised but you rested your head on his shoulder and continued on like it was nothing.
You were half asleep when Bucky tried to do something for Steve, maybe get him another beer but whatever it was it left Bucky looking like a sad puppy because Steve said, “Buck, relax, I can get my beers, thank you, but I got it, alright?”
Steve's tone was soft but also commanding, he wasn’t annoyed at all. With your eyes closed you pieced it together that Steve was trying to help Bucky in some way, maybe get him to relax a little more. It was out of love but Bucky was very quiet for the rest of the night.
********
You and Bucky had started hanging out a lot more on your own. There were a lot of late night drives or study sessions, Bucky always came to the library to walk you home if you stayed late or had turned your brain into mush during your studying.
What Steve had said stuck with you more than you thought it would, it didn’t impact how you saw Bucky but it made you more aware of his people pleasing tendencies. You wanted to do the same as Steve, tell him it was okay but you weren’t as close. You saw how hurt he was the last time and you just couldn’t do it to him.
Currently you were both sitting on his bed, the movie was wrapping up. Half of his laptop sat on one thigh and the other half sat on Bucky’s, your arms were linked and there was a steady brushing of your thumb on his forearm. In all honesty, you thought you were lulling him to sleep when you looked up five minutes ago to see him fighting his dropping lids.
When the movie faded to black both of you sat there for a moment, content with the sitcom that was coming up next. You looked up again to see him with his face scrunched up, his other hand was on his back.
“What is it?” you asked and leaned over, he was rubbing a specific spot on his lower back with his thumb.
Bucky held his breath as he leaned forward to move his hand, “I was working out this morning and there weren't any belts left for my deadlifts and I did something to my back.”
“Do you want a massage?” you offered, he’d do the same for you.
“I’m okay, thanks,” he looked down at your head resting on his bicep.
“I didn’t know you worked out,” you smiled, “you don’t have the, like, bodybuilder physique.”
Bucky laughed and wiped at his eyes, giggling to himself before answering. “I don’t want that look, but…” you could see the boast on the top of his tongue, he poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
“Tell me!” you sat up, taking the laptop off your lap so you could fully face him now, “are you, like, ripped or something?” you both laughed as he hugged himself so you couldn’t feel or see anything, “you are, shut up!” you placed both hands on his shoulders, his face so red from laughing and embarrassment you just wanted to take a bite out of it.
“Steve calls it a sleeper build,” Bucky managed to wheeze out, he was trying to play-fight you off of him.
“What the fuck is that?!” you gasped as your hands reached out but he copied you and intertwined his fingers with yours.
“It’s when someone has muscle but you can’t really see it in normal clothing,” his face was calming down as well, but that stupid smile was still on his face. “It just kinda happened, just how I am.”
You tried to move his arms around but you couldn’t, his fingers were still tightly woven with yours. You just laughed and fell back into him, cuddling up again. “I had a friend's mom who was an actual masseuse, so…” you shrugged, “I actually know what I’m doing because she’d give me massages and walk me through her process.”
“You just want to take my shirt off, don’t you?” Bucky taunted.
“I want to make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire time we hang out and for the rest of the week,” you giggled before snuggling into his arm again and watching the show that had come on randomly.
It took three days before Bucky came back for that massage.
You were hanging out again like normal and he was still trying to relieve the ache in his lower back. It was becoming sad to see him so uncomfortable so you kept reminding him of your excellent massage skills. After what you counted as his third groan of pain you just looked at him and soon enough he was asking you to turn around so he could take his shirt off and lie down.
Choosing your angle to stand with your back to him was a science, you wanted to make sure you had the mirror to look at but you also didn’t want to make it obvious. Part of you hated yourself for wanting to catch and peek at his body but it was infamous now, you just had to look.
And my god was it worth it.
It wasn't an obnoxious amount of muscle that made it seem like the strength drained from his brain and into his arms. The sleeper build comment was right, you had no idea. His chest made you feel comfortable and protected, the kind of chest you’d want to fall into when the subway starts up too quick and you’re not holding onto anything. His arms were, and you already knew this, amazing at covering so much surface area for hugs. They were secure and trustworthy, you knew that when you hugged him he had you; it also helped to remember when he’d whisper it in your ear.
“Okay,” his voice was muffled by pillows at the top of your bed.
You turned around and were greeted by his back which was also an amazing sight, the kind of body sculptors would use and their go-to subject if no one else was there. “I have some lotion on my hands,” you warned and pressed your palms onto his back and quickly began spreading the lotion around.
Though this wasn’t a proper table and he was resting on one cheek instead of face down you knew this was the best he’d get for a college kid. You started all over and slowly worked your way to focusing on his lower back. When you felt the knot you knew you found it, the thing was massive. The low groan Bucky let out was close to pornographic as you dug into him.
Something about seeing him grip the sheets, making his veins pop out, did something to you. At first you only really saw Bucky as another friend or a good member of the friend group you stumbled your way into. But the more you spent one-on-one the more you realized he was your perfect guy. Any guy can be perfect physically but his personality enhanced your view for him, it made you appreciate his looks even more.
His laugh always brought out the crinkle in his nose and those pretty teeth, the sound of him giggling was music to your ears and also was the perfect accompaniment to his squinted eyes or broad smile. The same with his little fist pumps he does when beating you at a game either around a group of friends of a video game, that stupid celebration he does every time causes him to flex his bicep but that’s secondary to the little circles he makes with his fist.
You kept working away and looking at his rested face once in a while, seeing his eyes closed and the relieved look on his face. There was something so pure about watching the guy your slowly obsession over fall into simple relaxation all because of you, it was a treat.
“How’s that?” you whisper, “Bucky?” trying to make sure your pressure wasn’t too hard for him you wanted to check in, but he had fallen asleep. With the opportunity in front of you, you reached out and placed your bent knuckles along his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle your fingers.
You found him blanket on his bed and covered him up so he wouldn’t get cold with his shirt off, before leaving you placed a kiss on his forehead before heading downstairs for a snack. You also wanted to give him space, let him sleep peacefully.
Steve was down there when you got there, another roommate of his cooking as you found Bucky’s section of snacks to choose from.
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked as he looked over his shoulder, not for long due to the football playing on the TV.
“Sleeping upstairs,” you ate the goldfish as you rounded the couch to watch the game.
He seemed taken aback at your casualness, “what did you guys do…?” he slowly looked over, most likely trying to see if your hair was disheveled or anything was blossoming on your neck.
“I gave him a massage,” you shrugged and fell back onto the couch, “his lower back has been killing from his workout a while ago.”
You could see Steve look over his shoulder to see if his roommate was also hearing this, he looked over at you again and squinted. “So- and correct me if I’m wrong here- you gave Bucky a massage and put him to sleep and now you’re down here getting a snack?”
“You would be correct,” you smiled, “would you like to do a once over of my neck for hickies or maybe rummage through the trash for condoms?” you sassed and plopped a few more goldfish in your mouth, “I was helping him.”
That statement made Steve look over his shoulder again. The roommate just shrugged with a smile before heading down to his room in the basement, noodles steaming from the cup. You just looked at Steve as he tried to piece together everything, it was actually funny to see him try to understand.
“Bucky doesn’t accept help from anyone,” Steve turned to face you, “it’s his thing to never want to be in debt with anyone when it comes to favours of any sort.”
“Well,” you just sighed, “I’ve been picking up on that too but I got to him I guess, he let me do something for him.” That was all you could say because you didn’t have a full background of why Bucky didn’t accept help from anyone you just knew he didn’t; the only clues you had were Winnie and her role in this.
“That’s good,” Steve quickly added, “I’m far from saying it’s bad, trust me, it’s just he’s been in a funk for a while when it comes to that stuff, it ebbs and flows.”
“Do you think he’ll ever tell me?” you asked as you watched the game, too embarrassed of the question to look at Steve. It seemed there was this vital piece of information that made Bucky who he was that was dangling right in front of your face, you were falling for him but that thing that made him him was out of reach. When Steve first made the statement he siad that this Winnie girl fucked him up which implied something bad much have happened and that can also mean something isn’t necessarily right. You were never going to fix Bucky but you did want to understand so you could help be a better friend to him and not unconsciously get in the way of his mindset.
Steve nodded, “he’ll definitely tell you,” he looked over and smiled, “I mean, you’re all he ever talks about, this kid is head over heels for you it’s just…some guys have hard times coming to terms with their past, he’ll get there though.”
“I know,” you nodded, “I’ll obviously never force it out but I do want him to be aware I’m here to listen, y’know?”
“He knows,” Steve laughed and stood up, going to the cupboard and grabbing a little snack for himself as well.
You took a deep breath before standing up and heading back upstairs, you were guessing Bucky was still fast asleep. When you opened the door you found him still laying on his bed in the exact same position, only now there was little snores coming from him.
With a pout you crawled back onto the bed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back and sliding it down to his arm that was bent up so his hands could rest under the pillow. Your thumb gently rubbed his arm for a moment before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it.
The boredom ate away at you, instead of scrolling through your phone you went to his dresser to find some clothes you could change into so you could crawl under his sheets and sleep over. When you pulled open his top drawer you were met with his underwear and socks as well as a box of condoms tucked to the side, you just giggled to yourself at the painfully college male sight in front of you.
Something about wearing his boxers made your face heat up, that was a level of intimacy you wanted to reach with him one day but you didn’t know if it was time. Looking over your shoulder after a particularly loud snore you smiled to yourself and picked up a black pair, as you held it up you remember seeing the waistband sticking out of his jeans while he reached above his head to grab something for someone - you weren’t focused on his actions at the time.
Quickly slipping your pants off and pulling up the boxers you maneuvered to his closet, finding your favourite hoodie he wore very often. This moment of intimacy, moving around Bucky’s room while he wasn’t aware, caused a surge of confidence to shoot through you. Though you had never talked to Bucky about what the relationship between you was, you knew both of you could agree there was no room for girlfriends or boyfriends for either of you, this was the time to build the foundation for something better later. Having this idea of only being the girl in his room you took off your bralette and tucked it back in his top drawer, across from the condoms.
You didn’t choose this bra specifically but you were wearing a slightly lacey bralette, it was far from lingerie but the lace added something to it. Making sure you put it where it wouldn’t be obvious but also not hiding it, you grew giddy at the image of Bucky finding it.
Before getting in his bed you tugged and tugged the sheets under his body before managing to get the covers fully out from under him. You scooted in and pulled the sheets up to cover both of you, it seemed he really needed the sleep because nothing was waking him up, not even the little hug you gave him before turning off the lights and falling asleep beside him.
********
You were sitting in class aimlessly scrolling through your phone during your five minute break in your lesson, your art history professor was one of the best teachers you've ever had. She was funny but also well informed, she also had a big heart and didn’t need a eulogy as a form of proof if someone asked for an extension due to a funeral service that day.
Bucky: What the hell is in my dresser?
Without knowing the tone or context your heart dropped. You read the text with Bucky’s voice as if he was screaming at you, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. It was in your head, you didn’t know if it was a flirty tone either.
You: Just my bra, when I stayed over a couple of nights ago I changed into your clothes and just absentmindedly put my bra in your top drawer. I probably was just going through the motions and thought I was at my place.
Bucky: Can I pick you up from class, when does your lecture end?
Something about him completely disregarding your explanation - lie or not - gave you the worst feeling in the world. Ice poured down your back as you watched your prof make her way back up to the little stage she teaches on, you couldn’t keep the conversation going and just needed to deal with it later.
You: sure, it ends in an hour.
Bucky: I’ll be there.
Part of you didn’t want to leave when your lecture was over, you stayed in the hallway for a moment and thought of every single end of the world situation that could happen in the car. Bucky didn’t seem like a guy who hit women but your anxiety didn’t let you leave out that thought. He also didn’t seem like the guy who’d reveal he’d been dating another girl the entire time but who knows, he could be in a three year long relationship as you stood there.
With all these terrible situations playing out in your head you decided to face it head on, you’d walk in there and wouldn’t let him talk; just saying your apologies with your eyes closed before he could get a word out.
You walked down the steps and to the right to find Bucky’s car parked in front, coming up in the blindspot. You took a moment to take a deep breath, opening the door and sitting down as quickly as possible.
“Do you-”
“Bucky,” you put your hand out but kept your eyes casted down, “I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t know if you already have a girlfriend and she found it and it caused a rift in your relationship, or if you like to sleep with other girls and one of them found the bra and got jealous so you lost your credit. I don’t know what made you angry but please, I am so sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking and I just put it in there and I-...” you just held your mouth open as you looked at the center console, you had run out of things to say. “Um,” you slowly looked up to see him frozen in shock, mouth still slightly open from when he began to say something, “sorry, you were about to say something?”
Bucky had to physically rattle his head to get out of the shock he was in, “do you want to get some coffee?”
Your eyes flicked up and it was your turn to stay frozen, “what?”
Bucky pulled his brows together, “I was making a joke about the bra thing,” he seemed concerned at your extremely anxious state, “I don’t care what you leave at my place, I really don’t,” normally someone would laugh in awkward situations but Bucky didn’t, it felt like it made everything worse. “Do you want coffee?”
“What is going on?” you couldn’t believe the situation you had put yourself in, nothing was making sense.
“Don’t get all mad at me,” now it was time for him to scoff, “you’re the one that thought I was sleeping with multiple women while I’m actively pursuing you, you idiot.”
“Don’t call me an idiot,” you huffed and faced the front of the car, crossing your arms after putting on your seatbelt.
Bucky laughed as he reached over and turned your face so you’d look at him, “that’s what you took from that statement?” He giggled, “babe, I just said I was pursuing you, does that just fly over your head?”
“Wait, what?” you grew more interested, “you want to date me?”
Bucky nodded, “have I not made it obvious?” You just shrugged and began to feel small, curling yourself further into the seat of his car, “I would like to take you out and I would like to continue to collect little pieces of you at my place while doing the same to yours, does that make sense?”
“Then what were those condoms for?”
“The same reason our house keeps tampons in our main bathroom,” Bucky put the car in drive and began working towards to coffee shop, “if you ever need a tampon you go and grab one, if Steve ever needs a condom and he’s out of stock in his room he comes to me,” Bucky looked at you at the stop light.
“Oh,” was all you could say.
“But let me get a few things straight,” Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, “I’m not sleeping with other girls, I do not have a secret girlfriend, I am not mad you left your bra in my dresser and I tried to make the text seem flirty, and finally,” he went at the green, “I really like you and I would like you to be my girl whenever we get there.”
“Okay,” you whispered, “I’d like that too.”
“Then it’s settled,” it was a short drive to the cafe, “let’s celebrate over coffee, shall we?”
You looked down at his hand on your thigh, “yeah, we shall.”
********
Your body felt like it was floating, your legs tingled and it was hard to catch your breath. As you laid on your back with your hands on your bare stomach Bucky worked his way back up from between your legs while leaving kisses on your hip bones as well as your stomach when you lifted your hands.
“How was that?” Bucky asked breathlessly, licking his lips before kissing you.
You kept your answer waiting, probably because he knew it already, kissing him slowly as he wanted. He was fully in control right now, setting the pace and tone of this entire afternoon. When he pulled away for a moment you complimented him like always, your hands reached up to his shoulders and tried to push him to lay on his back but he stayed strong.
“Flip over,” you whispered and ran your hands down his chiseled stomach, working your way up to his shoulders as your fingernails raked up his back.
“I’m all good,” he shrugged.
“But you’re painfully hard,” you tried again to get him to move but he just fell beside you on his stomach, not allowing you to touch him where he was in fact, extremely hard. “Come on, you always do this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled and pulled you down with him.
“I just want to do something nice for you, you never let me do anything for you or give you any favours,” in your head it seemed like a normal observation, it was true that Bucky didn’t let anyone do anything for him while he actively tried to help everyone in anyway he knew how.
That seemingly struck a nerve, “alright then,” he sighed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he left you naked and alone on his bed, the most lonesome feelings in the world.
“Where are you going?” you sat up, grabbing your shirt from the edge of the bed.
“Going to go jerk off in the shower,” he said as he closed the door.
“You can’t be serious,” you quickly stood and made your way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. You opened the door to see him already adjusting the tap before starting the shower. “Bucky, it’s the truth, it’s who you are but it’s the truth and as your girlfriend I want you to feel good, I want to give you pleasure like you do to me.”
You reached forward and placed your hands on his back, slowly working your way to his shoulders so you could turn him around. There looked like shame had overtaken him as he stood before you, though he was larger in size he shrunk himself down to look small. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, he didn’t know what to say.
“If I can’t give you head then can I come in the shower and wash your hair?” you didn’t even put on the shirt you grabbed, it was dropped to the floor. “Come on, honey, it’ll feel so good.”
Bucky only nodded before stepping into the hot shower with you. You made sure he got most of the stream on him, you stayed in front and made sure his hair was soaked before getting any product. You could see his tenseness at first but the moment your hands made contact with his scalp his eyes rolled back, his shoulders relaxed. In that moment it occurred to you that you had actually never seen his relaxed state before.
“Doesn’t this feel good?” you whispered, making sure you used your nails to really cleanse his scalp. “Doesn’t letting yourself relax and breathe feel so good, Buck?”
“Yeah,” it came out quiet and broken.
Your eyes were focused on his hair the entire time, making sure you lathered up and took your time. You needed to savor this moment for both you and Bucky, you wanted him to be relaxed for a s long as possible as well as taking advantage of doing him a favour; never knowing when your next opportunity would come up.
Gently tapped his forehead, you got him to lean back. The water immediately took off the top layer of suds but you needed to rub out the deeper layers as well. Your fingers scrubbed until the trail of water rolling down his body was pure water and had no shampoo in it.
“I’m going to- oh, my gosh Bucky,” you reached out and saw his red eyes, “when did you start crying?”
“I can’t remember,” he whispered and tilted his head down, the water pushed his hair to cover his eyes.
You pushed his hair back and pulled him out a step further so the water hit his back, your thumbs quickly wiped away a mixture of water and tears off of his face. He couldn’t stop crying as you tried your best to keep his face clear, “honey, what’s wrong?”
“I-” he choked on his own words, “I’ve never let my guard down this much,” he admitted before breaking off into harder sobs, you swooped in and pulled him tightly against your chest.
“I know it’s a new feeling,” you whispered, “but I want you to be able to do this all the time, let your guard down around me,” it was a shot in the dark by saying this but you did it anyways, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll never take advantage of your guard down, love.”
It must have struck something because his knees buckled, his hands gripped tighter as he desperately kept you close to him. You didn’t know if you were making him feel better or worse but the act of letting go was needed for him, you kept holding him until there was nothing left to cry.
When he pulled away he stayed close, close enough that you kissed him under the gentle rain of the shower and played with his hair at the base of his scalp. His hands stayed on your back and held you close to him, making sure you were always touching him in some way. You tried to get a good read on him but he kept his head low and gently ran his hands up and down your sides, just feeling you.
“You’re very safe,” you whispered.
Bucky looked up at you for a moment before keeping his eyes down for a while, his brows pulled together and it seemed like he was trying to say something but didn’t know how. Both of you were open and vulnerable, naked in the hot shower. Tears threatened to spill over at the picture of Bucky crying in front of you.
“It was my mom,” Bucky whispered, “the one who broke me-”
“You’re not broken,” you quickly corrected, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “don’t say that.”
Bucky just shrugged, “I’m the oldest, I have four sisters younger than me - all different dads.” Bucky took a deep breath and pulled you closer, “my mom…Winnie was an interesting woman who never wanted to be pregnant but somehow always ended up pregnant anyways, it also didn’t help none of the guys wanted to stick around.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the easy opportunity to hug you if he needed to. Nodding along, you encouraged him to keep going.
“When my mom realized I could do the dirty work she would take advantage of that. I basically raised my sisters and somehow she managed to worm into my head,” he let out an angry laugh, “she’d say she loved me if I did things for her and I was a bad boy if I couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, she would say I didn’t love her if I didn’t change my sister’s diapers or bathe them while she sat on the couch.”
“Bucky,” you were the one to instigate the hug, “that’s awful.”
“And I’m aware of how I act now, all I’ve ever known is helping other people to make sure they love me,” he laughed again, “and it sounds stupid but I can never break out of the cycle, I always think I’m doing a good job or not being overbearing but then I start to second guess myself, you know?” he pulled away and looked at you, you quickly nodded. “I start to think about what people are saying behind my back and so I keep doing what I’m doing to stay on the safe side, I know it’s fucking annoying but I can’t help it.”
“It’s not annoying, baby” you leaned past him and turned off the water as it grew cold, “and if you’ll let me I can help with that, I don’t want to fix you or change you, I just want you to be comfortable in this relationship and not think I’m secretly mad at you because you didn’t get me a glass of water.”
Bucky nodded, stepped out of the shower with you and grabbed two towels. The conversation had naturally ended, Bucky didn’t have anything else to say. It was hard not to think he was overthinking again, the idea that you were causing him to stress out stressed you out. You were being truthful when you said you wanted him to be relaxed in this relationship, the last thing you wanted was underlying tension.
Back in bed Bucky rolled over and cuddled into your breasts, holding you closely as you watched his head rise with your breath. You had no idea if he was asleep or not, you knew he wouldn’t mind either way if you played with his hair.
“Thank you,” was all he whispered before falling asleep.
********
You all sat around the couch to watch another big game. Though you had no idea what was going on you were just as into it as Steve. Half time had just started and you all took a collective breath, the two college teams were close.
“Want another beer?” you asked as you stood up, looking at Bucky who was sitting on the couch. Steve and Nat had already filled up, you wanted another cooler and Bucky was almost done.
“Yeah,” he quickly downed his final sip of beer before handing the bottle off to you.
There was this anticipation in the room, you smiled and took the bottle and walked past Steve who was already looking at Bucky. The room seemed still when Bucky didn’t move, just pulling out his phone to look at something while the commercials played. Before making it into the kitchen you looked over your shoulder and saw the back of Bucky’s head, you bit your lip to suppress the smile that was growing.
The moment you got back and sat next to him Bucky took your hand and pulled it into his lap. He fidgeted with your finger before looking over at you, “how’d I do?” he whispered.
You laughed and leaned into his side, “how much did that make your cringe?”
“I was in pain for a moment,” he answered as fast as possible before giggling with you as you clink your glasses together and take a long swing. With a deep breath he looked back at the game and kept your hand in his. Bucky must have not been paying attention but his phone buzzed, illuminating and accidentally showing his lockscreen.
It changed from the photo of the two of you to a black background with white writing on it:
Trust me, she’s not mad at you.
********
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Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.2)
Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader
Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.
summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.
a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (Bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)
pt.1 ♡
m.list
When the war was on his full climax, you were almost in the main focus of it, trying to protect the other kids from your orphanage. They were little compared to you. The nurses that usually carried them were dead under the debris from the old building that was your orphanage before Shigaraki and the others from the league broke it down. You saw a lot of people that you knew and cared for, die.
Aizawa Sensei found you because the twins were crying in your arms. You tried to soothe them, but you were scared as well, trespassing your anxiety to them.
He stood in front of you, taking a piece of metal with his own hands to take you out. He had lost his eye and a leg, but he was still putting some resistance to the villains.
You remember how he took your hand to let you out. You were only seventeen at that time, and he took you to the parademics so they could take a look on the twins that were barely five months.
They put you in UA shelter with them.
After the war ended, the twins were adopted by a couple who were in the shelter with you, they helped you to take care of them and they ended up falling in love with their squishy faces and contagious laugh.
The first night you spent alone was the worst. Everyone was returning to their homes because even if the place they lived was destroyed, they had a place to return to. You didn't, so you stayed behind.
One of the countless mornings spent there all by yourself, a knock in the door, startled you.
"Hey"
The man who saved you and the twins was there in your door. You were certain that he was there to kick you out, but instead, he invited you to take a coffee with him.
You weren't feeling talkative at all at first. He was doing most of the chat, and you could visibly notice that he was making an extreme effort on that.
He asked you where you lived before the war, and you told him all your life. Since your parents died in a monstrous car accident until the moment he found you. You told him about the awakening of your quirk and that you wanted to be a hero one day, not knowing that he could pull all the possible strings to make that happen.
He tested you and asked you to show him your quirk.
With his stoic face and all, he was amused really with the facility that you used your quirk without having any training before.
Stardust. He had never seen something like that before. Well, almost, the way that your quirk emerged from your skin reminded him of the way Midnight used her quirk, too.
The dust came right off your skin like little sparkles that mainly conducted fire and electricity. You explained to him that at first you thought that only worked if you detached from your skin and someone lit it on fire with a match or a lighter but then you realized that you could also rub it between your fingers or in your arms and legs and it will generate flames.
He saw all the possibilities of your quirk evolving. He knew what he had to do.
Pitifully, you were behind compared to the ones that were in the heroic classes. They had already fought a war. He started to teach you by himself, and sometimes he asked all might and present mic to help him too. He did a pretty good job training you.
The day that College UA started to take applicants, you were there, the first one on being accepted. Aizawa invited you to a fancy restaurant to celebrate. He spent almost two years training you and getting to know you, and he saw much further than what was on the exterior. He saw kindness and an unfair world for an orphan girl with your talent. He was torn on the inside because of that, so he took the matter in his hands, and in between courses, he extended to you the adoption papers.
Now you were two years into UA college, being one of the first in class and excelling in every kind of training. He was proud of you.
In the meantime, you were hoping that he was still proud of you.
You were outside his office, pacing around before he answered your text, asking where he was. He was working because in his apartment (that was on campus too), he couldn't focus.
The door was in the reach of your arm waiting for you to knock it, but you were scared. What would he tell you? Would he be mad? Because it was obvious that he already knew about it. He did lose an eye in war, but he had eyes everywhere.
Shota: I can hear you outside the door, come in already.
The text in your screen didn't do any better.
You turned the knock and peered between the door and the lintel.
"You are quiet as a mouse," he said sarcastically, folding some papers in his desk.
"Completely lame of you working on Sunday," you walked towards him and sat in the chair that was in front of him.
"I fall sleep at home every time I try to grab your class' tests"
"Oh, so you prefer falling asleep here instead?" You tried to joke your shame away, and it did its effect when Aizawa smiled a bit.
"Don't be brat," he warned lowly, and you rolled your eyes.
Before you could say anything or even start to form a sentence about what happened, he slid some papers on his desk to you.
"What's this?" You questioned, and he motioned for you to grab them and open the folder.
Unwrapping the envelope, you slid your fingers to grab the thin papers to get them out.
"Bakugo Katsuki, medical records," you read out loud, and instantly bright colors rose to your cheeks. "Is this- Is this legal?" You talked more to yourself than to him.
"I'm his teacher, and he took this two weeks ago. Let's be grateful that he forgot that he had to renew his medical tests for this year too"
"I thought that these papers were exclusively to the medical wing." You paused your reading because you felt like you were violating his privacy.
"Yeah, but I know how to pull my strings," he shrugged nonchalantly.
"Recovery girl" you huffed. "I swear that lady loves you"
You ignored all about his heart surgery and went straight to the blood tests to read only what you needed to know. After everything was more than clear and a heavy lift was completely off of you, you gave the papers back to Aizawa.
"Lesson learned?" he asked, and you nodded. "I was young once too and..."
"Please don't. I know how the story of bees and flowers goes, " You cut him off quickly.
"Well clearly"
You wanted to die.
"What I want to tell you, I know you feel like this is going to end you, but it's not. I'm proud of you anyway. With whom you prefer to have some sort of relationship is your choice, not mine. If you want to be with Bakugo-
"Okay, okay, stop," your seat squelched because of you abruptly moving it back. "Nothing is going to happen again. I was drunk and-"
"It was consented, right?" He was about to become berserker.
"Yeah, totally. I was drunk but not that drunk. See Jirou and Denki went very out of their minds preparing the cosmopolitans and-"
"And you love cosmopolitans," he said catching on your story.
"Exactly, I do, so I wasn't gonna say no to them, and then one thing turned to another, and he was kissing me, and -" You went over verbal.
"Okay, now you gotta stop," he pinched above his nose, in between his eyes.
It was comical and ironic seeing you two trying to figure out the conversation.
"You wanted to know!" You pointed out.
"Not all of it!"
"Fine, fine. I better go. Thanks for this. I hope you don't get in trouble"
"Sure, I'm still proud of you, and I'll see you later for dinner. Eri wants to see you. " he came back to grading his test.
"I'll be there"
That was awkward. But at least now you knew that Bakugo wasn't lying about being clean.
The same afternoon, after you went for lunch with Jirou, you were running some errands for college when the lovely smell of recently made coffee tickled your nose.
The cafeteria was open, and it was full of students trying to wake up their minds to absorb some knowledge. Lucky for you, you only wanted coffee because you were craving it.
You beelined to the cashier and asked for your drink, and while you were waiting for them to hand it to you, you could hear someone behind you clearing their throat.
Fucking hell please please please make a hole in the ground at your feet and swallow you whole.
"If it isn't my number one fan"
You rolled your eyes until the practically disappeared inside your skull.
"Can't we not?" You tapped your fingers against the counter.
"I think you owe me an apology," Bakugo said, changing the playfully and sarcastic tone to something more serious and pissed.
"For what?" You were still trying not to face him because the mere fact of what you said in front of his friends made you cringe and he was the full reminder of it.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you." he gripped your shoulder and moved you, so now you were face to face with him. Ugh, he looked mad. "I didn't like what you said. Everyone is talking about my dick"
He was so rough with the words and all, so you weren't much surprised because he was talking so bluntly in a crowded place.
"Well, let's see it this way, they are going to think that I'm lying so that would lead to make them think that we never actually fucked so problem solved, it's a win win" you explained without thinking much of it but it actually made kinda of sense.
"No, that's not going to do," he denied, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He was wearing a wife beater in the middle of autumn. He was nuts. "Tell a friend about how you lie and spread the rumor yourself. It's not that hard"
"I think you're only messing with me, I can't believe the Bakugo Katsuki cares about what people think" you grabbed your drink after the bartender yelled your name and Bakugo followed you like a puppy. "If you care so much, I don't know, leak a nude or something. I ain't telling shit, " you said almost in hurry because you were getting out of clever responses and because he was almost fuming, you didn't want it to get caught in a fire with him being the main source.
How would you explain that to Aizawa?
...
Something changed in Katsuki after the war. He never had experienced love in his life, let alone a fling or just romance in general. Was it worth it? Having someone to cling on knowing that something as sporadic as a war could break it all? For him, it wasn't worth the shot.
He was a grumpy kid with behavioral problems when he started UA High School. He hated most of his classmates (especially Midoriya), and he also truly believed that he was above everyone. He just wanted to be hated, and he didn't care.
With the years passing by, the war, his heart problems, and everything, he tried to calm himself down. He undervalued his classmates, and now he felt like they were all worth his time at least. He still thinks that he's above everyone, but he uses it as fuel when one of them challenge him.
His first year as a college student, he realized that heroics could be more than just training and superpassing the others. He still trained in hardcore mode, but he also made time to other activities, like hiking and flirting.
The best thing about flirting and fucking it was that he didn't need to be involved with the other person so he didn't have to make an effort to talk about anything, he liked his privacy.
"That little bitch sweep the floor with you the other day" a boy who was in the changing room with him said like they were friends. Bakugo didn't do "friends" either. He had his former class as equals, and that's it, and the guy who was in front of him flexing his abs wasn't one of them.
"Don't call her that," he grunted, almost annoyed.
Bakugo had manners himself and her mom taught him good about treating women. You did sweep the floor with him, but that wasn't a good excuse to call you that. The guy realized where Bakugo drew the line and without making any sound he left the room.
"That was manly." Kirishima appeared, drying his hair with a towel. "I thought you would agree with that fucker"
"F'course not," he rolled his eyes. "She seems fearless. She had the guts to embarrass me in front of you and didn't even flinch when I bit back, impressive, " he muttered the last part to himself. "I saw her again at the cafeteria a few days ago, she kicked me straight in the sack with her smart mouth again"
He wasn't good with words, but in the last years compared to his high school years, he realized that Kirishima was his man to trust so he started to loosen up a bit when it came to talking to him.
"Yeah, I never expected to be in the front row when someone kicked your ass, verbally." Kirishima sat next to Bakugo and didn't miss the lost look on his friend's face. "What's going on? Do you care about what she said?"
"No, not at all." he shook his head, pretending that the movement would stop the itching on his head when he remembered how pented up you looked. "It's just, I don't know, I can't get her off my head"
"Maybe it's just a recessive thought provoked by the fact that no one has ever talked back to you that way, especially after the act, like they all seemed very compliant running their tongues to spill the details, I think it's just because she seemed-"
"Regretful," Bakugo completed with a huff.
"Yeah, I was thinking a better word, tho." Kirishima scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little pity for his friend. He had never seen him like that.
Was it something to be worried about? Well, maybe not, but the gears turning in his brain about you, about how to address the situation, about how you made him feel and how to make you pay, oh man, that was truly something to be concerned about.
End note: Hey, me again! I know this isn't what you expected because of course, you wanted more interaction. Still, I thought that we needed a little background first because reader wasn't present at a time when Bakugo was in high school since UA college is a continuation of it. For me, it's super funny the idea of UA college, because the college I go to has the same name, anyway, I can assure you that the next chapter is going to be better I swear.
A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)
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When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.
Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.
I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.
I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.
I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.
I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.
I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.
This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!
The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.
I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.
My advice?
Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!
I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.
You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.
And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.
More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!
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black magnolias I - rafe cameron x reader
i gave you all my light, and i got nothing to show for it
WARNINGS: mature content; domestic violence, coercion, classism, religious trauma, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, blackmail
masterlist
the sound of old baptist hymns vibrated your bones, the drums and tambourines dancing in unison as dozens of feet stomped rhythmically. the floor of the building was littered with the bodies of women dressed in white, their plump frames covered in sheets to protect their modesty as they were prayed and shouted over by fellow churchgoers. the floorboards creaked under the weight of heavy feet and hard-bottomed dress shoes. the smell of mildew and old wood was strong, no amount of spearmint chewing gum able to mask the unpleasant scent of the damp wood that wafted into your nose with every breath.
church was the last place you wanted to be on a friday afternoon, shiny black shoes tapping against the creaking floorboards impatiently as you checked your phone for what seemed like the thirtieth time that hour. you’d prefer to be at the bait shop with your friends but ever since returning from the journey in search of the lost gold, your parents hardly let you out of their sight.
they were already convinced that your friends were a bad influence; that they were making you lose focus on school and the life they worked so hard for you to get. the one that you were making for yourself. you had scholarships and college acceptances lined up for you, a good job on figure eight, a nice boyfriend that would do almost anything for you. you were so close to losing it all because of the pogues–not that you were absolved from all responsibility. however, going missing for weeks in the middle of the caribbean while they were back at home, not even sure if you were alive or dead, only strengthened that belief.
it was strange being back in the old, wet building after so many years. your parents were always very religious, the two of them raised in the very church where you sat. and for a lot of your childhood you were too.
it was routine to attend worship sessions three times a week, your parents praying for a miracle that would never come. they thought that forcing you to come would make you just as devout as them, but it only made you hate the place more. the cult-like behavior only drove you away the older you got, the rift between you and your family growing larger the closer you got with the pogues. becoming involved with them is when your relationship with your parents began to strain.
when you met kie your sophomore year of highschool, she introduced you to the pogues. the way they lived life was the complete opposite of yours; on the edge, only worrying about the present and not the future. it was so odd to see them never concerned with what happens after highschool. kiara’s parents thought that you were a good influence on her. that if she became friends with you then she would leave the boys behind for good.
her parents were like yours in many ways; overbearing and judgemental of people they believed they were better than. instead of locking you away in a camp for troubled teens like kiara, they prayed over you day and night trying to cast out the demons that took their beloved daughter.
you wish you’d never told the truth about why you went missing for those weeks. maybe then you wouldn’t be stuck going to church every other day with a leash so tight it might as well be a noose.
it was a miracle that you graduated high school on time, and something greater than that to still have your job when you came back. pope wasn’t so lucky, and his parents never let him forget it. sometimes it felt like walking on eggshells around him when you talked about anything college related, knowing that everything he worked for blew up in his face while running behind the pogues. it felt unfair.
you both worked just as hard for everything you built, but you had connections and he didn’t. you got lucky. it was the truth even though he refused to say it and you didn’t want to admit it.
the sight of a quarter past two on your phone had you jumping out of the old wooden pew like it was on fire, silently making your exit before your parents could stop you. nobody was paying attention to you anyways, the church goers far too occupied with yet another praise break. the yelling and holy ghost-catching was distraction enough for you to slip out without being noticed. reaching up to wipe the anointing oil off your forehead, you take in a deep breath, the fresh air a relief to you after sitting in the stuffy must of the old church for almost four hours.
“yo!” you heard a familiar voice shout from a short distance. the sight of your friends in the twinkie made your face light up with a smile, jj’s head of shaggy blonde hair poking out the passenger side window as he waved you over. “don’t have all day sunday’s best, we have business to attend to!”
“shut up, jj. you aren’t even driving.” you rolled your eyes at him, shoes clicking against the concrete as you briskly walked towards the beat up van. the door shut loudly behind you as you took a seat next to pope in the back, the petticoat beneath your dress billowing dramatically against the cushioned bench.
the dark-skinned boy snickered beside you, a brown hand covering his mouth as he hid a teasing smile from your heated gaze. “i have bear mace in my bag, by the way. just thought you should know.” that only made him laugh harder, the two boys in the front joining in on the humiliation session.
you pouted silently for the rest of the ride to the shop, anxiously waiting to change into something more casual and comfortable than the outfit your mother picked out for you that morning. it made you feel out of place, even in the place that it was made for. everyone in the church wore old, dull clothes, bright colors faded from years of washing and wear and unable to afford much better. your family was always the best dressed out of the bunch, and it made you stick out like a sore thumb–more than you already did. your parents always believed that you “had to look your best to come before the lord in his house,” and so you did.
using your money on material things like pretty dresses and nail appointments just so your parents could show off in front of a church full of poor people when they were barely better off themselves made you feel sick; hearing them talk about how those people weren’t praying hard enough, how they didn’t believe in him strongly enough to receive his blessings. that their lack of devotion was the reason they couldn’t afford better for themselves.
for your parents to pretend that the reason they were in the position they were in because of their borderline-religious psychosis instead of the people you put them into rooms with because of who your ex-boyfriend’s dad was, was nauseating. your family was in that same position before you met him, and they’d be right back the moment anything went left.
you would never tell them that though.
“so, your folks ever letting you off that leash?” john b asks from the front seat, his erratic driving something you’d become used to over the years. you shrugged, the pads of your fingers tapping against the soft fabric of your dress.
“as long as i go to work, school, and…church,” it took everything in you to not gag on the word as it left your mouth. “i can do what i want.”
you heard jj scoff next to the brunette up front. “so, no.” he said, blue eyes meeting yours as he turned to meet your own. “you know, you’ll never have freedom unless you take it, y/n!”
“that’s easy for you to say, jj.” you rolled your eyes at him again, irritation rolling in on a cloud atop your head. “you said the same thing to kie. look where that got her.”
the other two boys groaned, the signs of an argument showing itself already after less than five minutes into the car ride to the bait shop.
it was routine for you and jj to butt heads. he always got everyone into life-endangering situations because of his stupid, rash decisions, and while everyone else would be mad at him for all of one day before forgiving him–you would never. you loved him just as much as the rest of the pogues, but he was selfish, immature, and never took accountability for his actions. it bothered you to no end how the rest of your friends just accepted that from him. you wanted him to be better, and he never would be if everyone just kept letting him get away with the same things over and over.
“uh, let me see…” he trails off, pretending to be lost in thought. “oh, yeah, free.”
“no, actually. i was thinking…homeless, estranged from her parents, locked up in a wilderness camp, and living in that ramshackle code violation you guys call a house.” you cut in. counting on your fingers, you list all the consequences kiara has faced after listening to jj one too many times. “i’d rather be called a demon two days a week if it means i can take showers whenever i want.”
“right. so don’t complain to us about it anymore if that’s how you’re gonna be.”
“i didn’t complain, you gave me unsolicited advice and i told you exactly why i don’t need it.”
pope nudged you gently, eyes wide as he silently begged you to stop before things got out of hand. shaking your head you lean back in the seat and let jj talk to himself for the rest of the ride, deeply uninterested in entertaining him any longer than you had to.
the car barely rolled to a stop before you were hopping out into the grass, the green earth padding your heavy footsteps as you made way to the refurbished wooden structure of jj’s house. sweat had started to trickle down the back of your neck from the layers of your attire and the heat of aggravation only made it worse.
you wanted to enjoy your weekend off, and nobody was going to ruin it for you. both of you were too proud to back down during an argument once you got up there, but you were smart enough to know when to pull back before it got to that point–jj would just have to find company with someone else for now.
as you made your way back out the door, you spotted more of the pogues sitting in the back of the old van. your hands held down the skirt of the short, cotton summer dress you wore instead of the thick material of the old one, harsh breeze sending the fabric billowing in the wind.
kiara smiled as you approached, her arms outstretched for a bone-crushing hug as soon as you were close enough. cleo and sarah joined her not long after, the three girls suffocating you with affection after not seeing them in over a week.
you’d been so caught up with work and school that it was hard to see them as much as you used to. “it’s a part of growing up,” is what your mother told you. you both knew that she only wanted to keep you busy so that you couldn't hang out with them, but you never said anything about it. you wanted to keep whatever peace you were able to make between the two of you.
“hey, pretty girl!” sarah exclaimed, her brown eyes and bright smile greeting you as she pulled away from the group embrace. “i missed you so much. i can’t believe you left us alone with these animals for so long.”
“i missed you, too” you sighed contently, hand reaching up to push hair out of your face. “my life has been so hectic lately. i feel like i barely have time to breathe anymore.”
the ride to the beach felt shorter than it usually did, the four of you busying yourself catching up as the boys sang loudly out the windows. it was favored timing that you had time off this weekend, the pogues practically begging you to come watch jj race in the enduro this year. even if you were busy, they would find a way to force you out anyway.
a large crowd of kooks and pogues took up space on the beach where the race would start, the sounds of loud cheers and bikes revving filling your ears as you approached. it was surprising that a fight hadn’t broken out yet, high tension thick in the air as bets were made before the race.
as you took in the organized chaos, your eyes caught on a familiar blond in all red not too far away. a barking laugh escaped you, the sight of topper in a full racing suit sending you into a fit of giggles. you tapped kiara’s leg, the girl joining you in doubling over when she spotted him on his bike.
“wow, i didn’t know he could look any more like a fucking idiot.” you said after catching your breath, the remnants of a grin still left on your face. “really outdid himself this time. i cannot believe you dated him.” sarah shoved you hard, sending you stumbling as you tried your hardest to hold back another fit of laughter. a deep red flush was traveling up her face, a ghost of a smile creeping it way onto her lips.
“why are we talking about my ex?” sarah rolled her eyes playfully. her arm raised to point out another person in the crowd. “yours is right there.”
freezing in place at her words, the mention of your ex-boyfriend sent a shiver down your spine. you slowly turned in the direction of where her finger raised attention to, heart stopping at the sight of a broad figure dressed in all black. you knew it all too well.
“yeah…her brother has gotta be way worse than topper.” kiara adds. you glare at her and she raises her hands in surrender. “sorry! but it's true…he literally tried to kill her–multiple times. and you. and pope. and literally did murder someone before covering it up–”
“yes, kiara, i know.” you cut her off abruptly. “i am fully aware that my ex is a murderous, abusive psycho with severe family issues. thank you for reminding all of us.” you knew she didn’t mean any harm, but it was hard to not snap at the mention of him.
you’d spent so long thinking about what happened the last time you two spoke.
your boyfriend–ex-boyfriend, knew the real reason you were missing for all that time. he would never let you live down the betrayal of pushing him off that boat to save your friends, or ignoring him for months so that you wouldn’t have to face the things you did to him. there was no reason to feel bad; the man showed his true colors and he got what he deserved. but even after what you did to him in barbados, he didn’t rat you out. he vouched for you, though you wish he never had. your time hadn’t come yet, but you were all too aware that it would be on its way.
rafe cameron did no favors–not without getting one in return.
the two of you never officially broke up, not because you didn’t want to, but because you were too afraid to face him after what you did. at the same time, he knew where to find you. if he wanted to see you, to talk to you, he would. you were pretty sure that he moved on to another girl in your absence, the man and his business no longer your concern.
“uh oh…” kiara whispered to you as your only warning before another voice made its presence. her gaze flickered between you and whoever was standing behind you, her wide and worried eyes only serving as confirmation to their identity.
when she saw you were making no moves to face the looming body just inches away from you, she opened her mouth to speak. she didn’t even get a breath out before his voice filled you, the sound sending vibrations through your bones and fear coursing through your veins.
“been a while, huh?”
swallowing, you accept your fate. avoiding him forever was impossible–you'd have to deal with him eventually.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#outerbanks rafe#obx4#x black reader#outer banks#obx#outer banks fanfiction#cleoluvrr fics#southern gothic#dark!rafe cameron
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"Hey, it's, uh, Toji from... Fuck, why am I telling you this? You already know. Well, you said I could hit you up if I ever needed a gym buddy... So, how 'bout it? Maybe in an hour or so? Alright, let me know."
You laugh as you listen to the voicemail for the third time in a row. He sounds dumber and dumber, but in the most adorable way, every time you play it again. You're tempted to get back to him, but it's been two hours since he left that voicemail. You weren't able to answer when he called because you had just gotten home from work and you left your phone on the couch while you went to change into comfy clothes. Maybe he'll answer if you shoot him a text message.
Hey, sorry I didn't get back to you earlier
Just got home from work
He didn't answer fast at all. You figured maybe the window of opportunity had closed and he went to sleep or something. So, you went to your kitchen cabinet and grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass. You put some popcorn in the microwave and transfered it into a bowl once it was ready. You set everything down on your coffee table, and picked up the TV remote, but before you could turn the TV on, you heard a buzz.
Don't sweat it, unless you're doing it at the gym with me ;)
I'm still down if you are. Want me to pick you up?
You giggle at the corny first message.
I could go for an hour or so.
Are you sure you're fine picking me up?
Just send the address. I'll be there soon.
—
Toji shows up at your place fifteen minutes later, honking twice to let you know he's there. You open the blinds to peek through the window, and he greets you with a raise of his hand above the steering wheel. Why you felt your heartbeat pick up after that, you're not sure.
You grabbed your things, turning off all the lights except for the porch light. You've stumbled on the stairs once, stumbled even twice, but you will not stumble a third time, so the light stays on.
Toji unlocks the car, looking around to make sure there's nothing in the way for when you get in.
"Hey," you smile, inspecting the passenger seat to make sure you don't sit on any of his stuff. "Thanks for picking me up." You enter the car, everything sinking in when the door shuts.
You look at the man beside you, taking in his appearance. He looks the same as last time, but for some reason you don't recall him being so handsome. Perhaps, it was your adrenaline getting in the way when you first met him, and the fact that he was pushing the hell out of you when your arms started shaking at the pullup bar.
"Don't worry about it. I know it's a little scarier to travel alone at night, so what kind of man would I be if I let you leave your house alone at this time?"
You laugh, putting on your seatbelt while he backs the car out of the parking spot. You kept yourself in check by declaring that he was only objectively attractive for now. You don't know him well enough to say he's a good man, or that you trust him entirely, but he's gaining some of your trust, given this is only the second time you've seen him, and he already knows where you live.
Throughout the drive to the gym, you and Toji talked about yourselves. How long you both lived in the area, hobbies, whether you were in school or working, or both. It was a conversation that scratched the surface off, allowing you both to dig deeper and make room for friendship.
—
Toji told you stretching is always a must, especially if he's working out with someone else. He doesn't want them to get hurt once the workouts got more intense, and he won't be held responsible for any muscle damage. He's being especially pushy with you, though.
"We're not moving on until you stretch, so get on the stupid mat."
He watches you pace around, turning to avoid his intense gaze. You sigh, bored and ready to start the more rigorous stuff. "I never do this. I usually start out with a run and go from there." You plop down onto the mat, just sitting there.
His brows furrow, the information not processing in his head. For someone who claims to go to the gym enough, you don't take the correct precautions necessary to avoid damaging your body. "That's a perfect way to develop shin splints, dummy." In his mind, his eyes are rolling straight out of his head. "Alright, just follow my lead. Mirror me."
He had you doing leg stretches, lunges, calf stretches, quads, the whole nine yards. There were times when he stopped to watch you, to make sure you were doing it correctly. When you got to the supine stretches, his eyes went low on your body. You felt like you were being torn with all the stretching. This made you gain a new level of respect for Toji starting all his workouts this way.
Toji kept his eyes on you, unable to ignore the groans and hisses you let out. He didn't know what compelled him to stand so close over your head, but he ended up helping you out. With his hand locked around your ankle, he pulled your leg back just a little more.
"Huh?" You tilt your head up to look at Toji. You weren't sure if you had missed something he said and he went on to the next stretch, but his touch had you shaking.
"You should be feeling more pressure in your hamstring. You're not pulling your leg back enough."
You could feel your face getting warm. You were unsure if it was the pressure of the stretching or if it was the touch his warm hand on your ankle, but in all that confusion, you still managed to mock him under your breath. "You're not pulling your leg back enough..."
He chuckles, hearing a good amount of that impression. "I got you, don't worry." He releases your ankle, the cool air from the ceiling vent hitting it as it dropped to the floor. "Switch." His hand beckons for your other leg, and he does the same for that one. He grabs onto your ankle, and pulls your leg back slowly until you tap the floor. "See how far you can actually go? You're more flexible than you think."
Toji was really enjoying watching the way your leg quivered with its unaccustomed use of certain muscles. He looks down at your uncomfortable facial features. Your nose is slightly scrunched, your lips are tucked, and your brows are pinched. It's cute, but he can't help but picture it in a more vulgar scenario.
He pats your leg before releasing it. "Good girl. Have some water."
Your eyes widened at the praise, something you had to let go of quickly because Toji was ready to move on to the next thing. That didn't stop your stomach from flipping around as you took a quick water break.
"Arms? Legs? Back? What do you wanna work on tonight?" His voice snaps you out of your thoughts.
"Oh, um... your choice. I'm following your lead, aren't I?" You smile.
"Alright, then. You're gonna spot me." He picks up his water flask and walks ahead, assuming you'll follow. Your heart starts racing. He's joking, right? Right?
He puts his flask down, sitting on the bench in front of the huge shared mirror. "How much can you lift?" He asks, looking at your timid frame through the mirror.
"Um... well... I-"
"You don't, do you?" You see the hint of a smirk forming on his lips.
"Yeah, not really. I don't," you say, feeling a little embarrassed. You didn't know this was a good thing for him know. There was no challenge meaning he was going to take this opportunity to show off for you. Toji knew that any amount of weight he lifted that was over one hundred pounds would impress the hell out of you. This was Toji's equivalent of the bird mating dance. His muscles were the colorful feathers and him lifting a lot of weight was the attention grabbing dance.
"Wanna help me put the weights on?" He points at the rack with varying weight plates.
"Okay," you agree.
"How about ninety to start?" That is absolutely nothing to him, but he really wanted to you to believe that you would be spotting him.
"Sure," you confirm, following him to the weight rack after. You grabbed a forty-five pound plate with both hands while he grabbed another, holding it with just one hand. He laughed at the slight change in posture for your walk, from carrying the weight. You returned to the bench, putting the metal bar through the plate while Toji did the same on the other side.
He sat down on the bench, watching you through the mirror. "You ready?" He asks. "If I start struggling, you're gonna pull the bar up, yeah?" His serious expression really sells his little joke on you.
"Mhm," you mumble, with little certainty. Your hands shake as you near the head of the bench.
Toji lays down, looking straight up at your nervous expression with a sly grin. The sound of the bar coming off the ramps makes you jolt, something that Toji breathily chuckles at as he brings the bar down low then pushes back up. You lose focus by the fifth time he does this, narrowing your eyes on the veins bulging out on his biceps. He can see you staring, and it only fuels his motivation to do more reps. But then your eyes start wandering. You see the way his chest inflates and deflates as he continues to push, you notice the shape of his abs bulging through his shirt, and then you find yourself looking all the way down south. You start wondering if he could bench press you. Maybe at his place, with a lot less clothes on.
He whistles, green eyes absorbing the flustered reaction on your face. "Eyes up here. Could've been crushed over here and you wouldn't have even noticed, doll."
"Sorry... fuck, i'm so sorry."
He laughs at how awkward you got after getting caught. He finished up a couple more reps before securing the bar back in it's spot. He sits up, only able to see your back through the mirror.
"What's up with you?" He asks, standing up from the bench.
"I don't think i'm the best person to spot you. Maybe someone else could do it. I could ask this guy if you want. Hey-"
"No, no. Nope. It's all good." He pulls you away from the guy doing squats next to you guys. "I was just messing with you." His hand rests on your shoulder. "You really think i'm not capable of lifting ninety pounds without struggling?" You still can't look him in the eyes after what happened earlier without going red, but that's fine 'cause he can look at you. "Sweetheart, I can lift you up so easily. I'm talking featherlight easy."
"I knew you could lift ninety pounds alone. You just like to make me feel dumb." You glance at him and hold back a laugh.
"Guess you're too smart. Is that why you let yourself get distracted so easily?"
You groan, the embarrassment from before flooding you again.
"It's water under the bridge, but listen, I'm gonna stay and do a couple more sets. You can chill here and watch me, or you can go to some of the other equipment, or... you can be the sweetest girl and do squats right next to me. You know, to keep me motivated."
"Toji, you dog." You smack his arm, giggling to yourself. Toji finds it really amusing when he makes you blush. You turn away or cover your face every time, like it'll hide the reason for why you're acting that way. "I'll pass on being a sweet girl, just this once."
Toji smirks, crisp green eyes raking up and down your body.
"I'm going on a run. I've got too much energy to just stand here or, you know, squat for you."
"That's too bad. Was really hoping you'd be my prize for finishing my sets." He watches your tongue dart out to lick your lips, completely mesmerized by how the gesture transitions to you nibbling on your lip. "Go on, but you're showing me your pull up game when I come get you."
You playfully roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit."
—
You ran a mile and a half to rid yourself of those lust filled thoughts that formed in your mind when Toji was around. You thought the lack of breath would be enough to cloud your mind and discard all thoughts in general, but you still found yourself looking for him on the other side of the gym.
"Looking for someone?" Toji asks, scaring the life out of your already racing heart. You gasp, turning the treadmill off. It slows you down at a good pace, eventually stilling you.
"Almost two miles. That's really good." He grabs onto the sidebar, watching you lean forward onto the control panel in an attempt to regain your breath. "Heh, you look like a tomato," he jokes, poking your cheek. "Come on, clean yourself up and drink some water. We've got one more stop and then we can head out."
He offers you his towel, seeing that you didn't bring one with you. Your legs feel like they're buzzing, and you feel incredibly sluggish, but still you pick your head up and have some water.
Toji watches your throat movement as you swallow the water. He notices how fast it's going, and he wants to tell you to slow down, but instead becomes distracted when some of it seeps down your chin and lands on your shirt. You really are a pretty picture in that moment. Your neck is glowing with a layer of sweat, your baby hairs on the back of your neck curl and stick to your skin, and your cheeks are flushed with color.
"I'm tired," you sigh. You use the towel to dab at your forehead lightly, handing it back to Toji afterwards. "Ready," you huff. You cleaned up the treadmill and waited for Toji to lead again. He seemed to be buffering though. "Hey, aren't you the leader here? Come on. I wanna go home."
"Yeah, my bad. Let's see those pull ups."
—
Reaching the bar has always been your biggest issue. It's like the starting height for some of the equipment is six feet. You stand beneath the bar, your arms stretched upwards, and you jump, barely grazing the metal.
"Too short?" Toji asks, ready to assist you.
"No. I'm gonna get it." Your arms go up again, your knees bend and you put all your remaining strength into your jump, still missing the bar. "Fuck. Yeah, i'm too short."
"Need a hand?" He asks, stepping towards you.
"Let me borrow your thigh, please. I'll dust my footprints off aft-"
His hands are on your waist, lifting you off the ground with ease. You freeze in shock of his gesture. "Grab the bar when you're ready. No rush." He chuckles.
His fingers are poking into your sides, leaving a ticklish sensation behind that snaps you out of your thoughts and pushes you to grab the bar.
You huff, your hands tightening on the bar as you hang for a few seconds before pulling up, slowly.
"One," Toji starts counting, watching you dip down again. Your shoulder blades flex as you bring yourself up, then down again. "Mhm, there you go. Got another one in you?" Toji asks, watching you look up. You exhale, and with slightly shaky arms, you pull yourself up, letting yourself hang for a couple seconds after.
"My hands hurt. Two more and i'm tapping out."
"I'll give you some of the salve I use for my calluses. Now, go."
You grunt, knowing how much harder it is when you pause in between. Your arms are worn just from hanging, but then having to pull yourself up again? It's a task and a half.
"You got it. Up, up, up!" Toji drills. The fact that you were able to do two was impressive enough to him, but you were a trooper for pushing yourself to do more.
Toji paces around you, supposedly taking note of your form, but really he's peeking at the exposed skin that is revealed by your shirt raising up. Your stomach, your lower back, your waist, it's all eye candy. He gives your ass a good stare down once he's behind you again, but something that unexpectedly got him was you doing the final pull up cross-legged.
You groaned at the burn in your muscles, the force of your arms having to pull your weight up one more time. Even though your arms were shaking and your hands were in agony, you pulled up. Your chin made it slightly above the bar before you quickly dropped to the ground.
"That was good. I'm done. I'm out," you blurt, exhausted beyond belief.
Toji grabs your hands, examining your palms. "Gnarly," he mutters, running his thumb across the thickened, rough skin. "I've got just the thing for these in my car. Come on."
—
"Just a little bit of this will do the trick." He grabs a blue tub of hand salve from his glove compartment, twisting the lid off to reveal a faded pink colored substance. "Let me see," he says, after dipping his index finger into the tub. You put your hand in his, and watch as he distributes the medication across the bumps on the upper part of your palm. "Your hands are way too pretty to have any type of damage on them," he murmurs as he rubs your palm until the salve is properly smoothed in. He does it for your other hand as well, his excuse being that he can't just start something without finishing it. "Good to go," he says, before releasing your hand.
"Thanks," you respond. Thank god he turned the light of immediately, because it would have been mortifying if he saw the furious blush on your face.
"Don't mention it, doll." He inspects his own hands, and though his have calluses as well, he doesn't want to hold you up any longer, so he puts the lid back on the blue tub and stores it in his glove compartment. "Let's get you back home."
—
You felt tension throughout the whole drive back to your house. There wasn't as much conversation going on as before, but there was something. You felt something. You kept trading glances with him, occasionally meeting eyes. He could take turns, looking into your eyes and watching the road, but you wouldn't let it happen. As soon as he made eye contact with you, you turned to look out the window.
The tension was driving you insane, but at last, you made it home.
Toji turned the car off, his headlights dimming down until they lacked brilliance. You unbuckled your seatbelt, and made sure you had everything you brought with you.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Toji breaks the silence, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other on the compartment between your seats.
"I wouldn't do it more than three times a week," you joke, grinning at him.
"Hey, that's better than nothing. That's three days out of my week that I expect to see you... at the gym." Toji realizes the pause in his sentence was very much noticeable, so he chooses to elaborate. "You know, you can hit me up whenever. For the gym, a random food run, whatever. I have a pretty open schedule."
You laugh, nervously. "I don't. I work five days a week. I don't really have time unless I force it."
This doesn't discourage Toji. Rather, it raises the stakes for him.
"How about forcing some time out for me?" He sees the hesitant look on your face and decides to double up. "What do you have to lose? A boyfriend?"
Your jaw drops. You don't know if he's assuming you have a partner or if he's foreshadowing himself in your life.
"Is that your way if asking if i'm single...?"
"Maybe." He chuckles. "Only if it's not offensive to you."
"It's not. I'm not hiding it or anything like that, but yeah, i'm single."
Toji nods in acknowledgment, a content grin on his face. "Good to know. I won't be limiting my calls or text messages anymore, so pick up, will you?"
You smile. "I'll do my best." You take one more look at the floor to make sure nothing is left behind, before opening the door and stepping out.
"I'll stay until you make it inside your house. Need to make sure no one hops out of the bushes and drags you away."
"Stop, i'll have nightmares." You look at the bush next to your staircase and sigh. "Goodnight, Toji. Thanks for the ride," you say, slightly unsettled by the scary thought planted in your head.
"'Night, doll."
You shut the door and go up the stairs, carefully so that you don't stumble like you did the last two times. This time would be really embarrassing, considering Toji is still there waiting for you to make it home safely.
You unlock your door and shut it behind you, quickly, locking up for the night. You fast walk to the window, hoping Toji is still there, and thankfully he is. You wave goodbye to him as he's reversing his car, and he reciprocates with a hand raised above his steering wheel like before. You watch him drive off, his taillights being the only things visible in the dark street, until they're gone.
You turn the porch light off and secure your home, shutting the windows and closing the blinds. Once everything is closed, you carelessly throw yourself on the couch and allow yourself to melt—fully dissolve, at the thought of your time spent with Toji.
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Inspo Credit: @nottorureadz
#toji fluff#toji x y/n#toji x you#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#dilf toji#toji#jjk x y/n#jjk fic#jjk scenarios#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#fanfic#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you
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If it's no bother the whole meeting family and sister being favoured ordeal but with Wanderer, Xiao, Childe and Tighnari please! Yummy comfort...🤤
Honestly.. I did my best with it, but I don't know if I'll do another addition to this from now on. It feels like I'm always writing the exact same thing, and I feel like it's getting boring and repetitive...
Let me know what you think about it, please, because I really don't know.
Characters Included: Wanderer; Xiao; Tighnari
Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; reader has a sister; hurt/comfort; mention of past (child) abuse; mention of child neglect; insults; slight racism against Tighnari; not proofread yet
Word count: 3,7k words
Requested by: @ahtopoteyto
Enjoy everyone<3
Wanderer
When you suddenly hit him with the question of wether he wanted to meet your parents or not, he was confused and slightly shocked. From what he had gathered over the time you've been dating, you did not have a very good connection with your parents.
You never really talked about them or told him stories about your childhood. The first few times he asked you about them, he vividly remembers how your face became pale and you simply stating that you didn't want to talk about this. So he let it be, not bothering you with it anymore.
So for you to suddenly ask him this after months of not even mentioning anything related to this subject, he found it highly suspicious.
"Where's this coming from so suddenly?", he asks, taking your hand and sitting you down on the couch next to him. He can already tell how much it cost you to simply ask him that question.
"W-well... I just thought that maybe it's something you'd want. I mean.. normally, in relationships, you introduce your parnters to your parents. So, I thought, maybe we should do that, too..?"
You sounded so meek and unsure of yourself, he hated to see you like this. He may not know the full story about what happened between you and your parents, but if it made you that uncomfortable just talking about them, then that's all he needed to know. He would never knowingly put you through something horrible.
So, to reassure you, he circled his arms around you, pulling you against his chest while placing his chin on top of your head as he just held you like this. "Don't force yourself to do something you don't want to do. Our relationship isn't exactly normal anyways. I don't care about meeting your parents. You don't like them, that's enough for me to also dislike them."
That made you laugh a bit, and he also relaxed a bit, knowing that if that could make you laugh, you were already feeling a bit better.
"Even so.. I think you should know why I don't have contact with them anymore..", you quietly spoke after some time.
"Only if you want to tell me. You don't have to force yourself.", was his answer, but you insisted, finally wanting him to know, since you've already kept it to yourself for so long.
And so, you told him about all the things you went through when you were younger, still living with and depending on your parents. You told him how you were the oldest child of your parents, and for a while, everything was good. There were normal, loving and even spoiled you a bit as a child.
But when you were 6 years old, your parents decided to have a second child, and so, your sister was born when you were 7. And suddenly, it was like you didn't exist anymore.
Your parents focused all their love and attention towards your baby sister, leaving you to figure things out by yourself. They at least still provided food for you, but anything else you were left to your own devices.
By the time you were 12 years old, you were practically living by yourself, though you were still in your parents house. You were cooking your own meals, doing your own laundry, managing school stuff and all that your parents were supposed to do for you.
Your sister was only 5 years old, she was just a happy child and didn't know about the clear favouritism and neglect going on. She was just a sweet child that wanted to play with her sister. You couldn't hate her, since she didn't do anything wrong.
From time to time, you tried to get your parents attention, either with your grades or other achievements, but they always brushed you aside to focus on your sister, since they claimed she needed their attention more than you did.
It hurt, and you kept on trying and trying, until eventually, you realised that it had no sense and you just stopped. You knew that they would never love you like they did with your sister. So, as soon as you could, you started a part time job to save up some money, so you could leave when you needed to.
The older you and your sister got, the more she also became aware of the favouritism. Luckily, it didn't grow over her head, and she tried her best to get your mom and dad to focus on you, too. But they never did. Instead, your sister spent time with you, which you were really greatful for.
When the time came, you were old enough and had enough money saved, you left your home. You told no one, except for your sister. She was sad to see you leave, but she understood why you did it, and wished you the best of luck. Even to this day, you hold some sort of loose contact to her.
Your parents however? You haven't heard a word from them since you've left. You weren't even sure if they've noticed your dissapearance, if they even remembered that they had an older child. But you were glad, you didn't want anything to do with them in the first place.
While listening to your story, Wanderer felt himself get more and more angry on your behalf. How dare they treat their own child in such a way? What kind of a parent would do such a thing?
He was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists. He wanted so bad to make them pay for what they did to you. But then he focused back on you, still in his arms, sobbing as you were telling him your story. No matter how much you reassured him that you were fine, it was still affecting you.
So instead, he focused and channeled his anger into the love and worry he had for you. He tightend his hold around you, planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry you had to live through something like that. But that's all in the past. You're here now, with me. You've achieved so much for yourself and by yourself, so you can be proud of you. And I'll be by your side for each and every step in the future. I won't let something like this ever happen to you again. And if you ever want me to pay your parents a little visit... let me know."
That last statement brought him a small hit to his side, but he merely laughed it off.
You'd always be his number one. Forever and always..
Xiao
Having an Adeptus as your boyfriend, the Guardian of Liyue himself at that, you tried to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. For you, that meant spending ever second of your free time in or around Wangshu Inn, sometimes even spending the night there despite having your own living place.
Xiao appreciated this gesture of yours. You knew that he liked the Inn as his place of operation, and you didn't want to force him into spending time at your place, when he would only be anxious the entire time. So it was a compromise you were willing to make.
Today was a nice summer day. You were dressed in soft clothing, allowing the occaisonal gust of wind to cool your skin down as you were standing on the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn, observing the scenery before you. Xiao was currently out somewhere, so you had decided to wait for him here.
While you were observing, leaning your body against the railing, you suddenly felt the presence of someone behind you. Before you could turn around, a pair of arms came around from behind you, encircling your body as his hands found purchase on the railing, next to yours.
You immediately recognized him, a smile spreading as you felt his body leaning against yours, his soft lips pressing against your exposed shoulder.
"You should be more careful. I wouldn't want you to lean to far over and falling to your death.", he mumbled, staying close to you, searching for the physical contact.
You loved how openly he showed his love and affection to you when it was just the two of you, no one else around to witness this soft moment of his. "I'm sure you'd catch me before anything could happen to me.", you reply, intertwining your hand with his.
"And you'd be absolutely right."
You smile but don't say anything more as you stay with him like this, enjoying the way his body feels against yours. If only this moment could last forever...
But alas, it didn't last nearly as long as you'd want it to. Soon enough, you could hear some shouting from below, coming from the reception. You heard the Boss Lady, Verr, call after someone. "Sir, please! You can't just barge up there!"
But whoever that man was, he just ignored her as both you and Xiao could hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. With one last look at each other, you break apart to an appropriate distance, figuring that whoever this was was probably here to seek the help of the Adeptus.
However, as the man arrived at the top balcony, your breath got caught in your throat as you recognized the man standing in front of you.
His eyes found yours, and you saw a glimpse of something wash over his face that you couldn't quite name. Xiao also noticed this, choosing to remain silent for now, but closely watching both of you. He may not know who this man was, but it was obvious to him that you recognized him.
"Dad?", you then asked, still hoping that this was just some bad dream you'd wake up from any second now.
"(Name)! I finally found you! You weren't at home, so I've been searching everywhere for you."
The man, your father, made a step towards you, but as soon as he did, you also took a step back. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Xiao. You were clearly uncomfortable with your father being here, so he was preparing to step in the second things threatened to go out of control.
"What do you want?", you ask him, not wanting to spend any more time in this mans presence than you absolutely have to.
"What, a father can't visit his child?", he asked, letting out a chuckle, but everyone present could tell how fake it sounded.
"Just tell me what you want already."
Your father threw you a glare, but relented nonetheless. "Fine then. Your mother and I were hoping for a bit of financial aid from you. Your sister wants to study at the Academiya of Sumeru, but we lack the money to help her with that. We heard that you were doing pretty good for yourself, so, naturally, you'd help out your family a bit. Right?"
The last word sounded almost threatening, like refusing would cause you serious consequences. You knew that tone in your fathers voice all too well, having been "disciplined" by him most of your life if you ever dared refuse him.
This entire situation was almost laughable to you. You haven't had contact with either your parents or your sister in years, since you finally left their home for good. And now, after years of silence, they suddenly remember you, only to come crawling and begging for money. Which they plan to spend on your sister.
As it always was. It's always been her over you.
"..No.", you say after a few seconds of silence. Hearing your answer, your fathers forced smile drops and he stares at you, like he couldn't believe the word that just left your mouth.
"What did you say?", he asked, his voice ice cold and you flinched a bit, hiding a bit behind Xiao as you were still scared of this man, but you refused to subject yourself to him again.
"I said No. I'm not giving you any money."
Your response was hanging in the air for a bit, when suddenly, anger started to show on your fathers face and he then began lunging towards you, one arm raised as if to slap you.
"You ungrateful, little-!", he yelled and was about to take a swing at you, when suddenly, within the blink of an eye, he was laying on the floor, face pushed onto the ground, with Xiao standing over him, restraining your fathers hands.
"You will not put your hands on them. I won't allow it."
Your father was cursing and screaming, trying to escape the hold Xiao had him in. But the more he struggled, the more force Xiao put into holding him down, which only worsened the curses thrown at the both of you.
Witnessing this, the reality of what would have happened to you if Xiao wasn't there with you sank in, and you felt your knees giving out, sinking to the floor as tears subconsciously began to run down your cheeks.
Noticing this, Xiao quickly reassed the situation as he leaned down to your father. "Leave. And don't you dare ever come back. If I see or hear you bothering them ever again, I won't be so mercyful next time."
Then, he let go of your father and rushed to your side, checking in on you. Your father cursed some more as he finally got to his feet again and quickly left the scene, and hopefully, your life as well.
You on the other hand, were a mess right now. Tears running down, you were sobbing as you held onto Xiao like your life depended on him. He let it happen, soothingly running a hand along your back as he just held you, letting you cry it all out.
After you've calmed down again, he just has to talk about what just happened. "I take it this happened more than once to you?", he asked softly, referencing the moment your father tried to lay hands on you.
You couldn't say the words, so you just nodded as a response. Xiao felt anger rising in his chest, but he held it under control focusing on you, since you needed him right now.
"What else has he done to you?"
And so, with shaky breath and lots of pauses in between, you tell him about all the abuse and the clear favouritism of your sister you've been going through your entire childhood, up until the day you ran away from them for good.
Xiao was in shock that parents could do such a thing to their own child. And even if he wanted to go out and make them pay for their actions, there's nothing he could do. He was bound by a contract to protect the people of Liyue. He couldn't harm them. But he could protect you..
So, he takes you in his arms again, holding you close to him as he softly speaks into your ear. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened to you. From now on, you won't have to worry about them any longer. I'll protect you. From them and any other harm that tries to make their way to you."
And you knew that he meant every word he said. You knew that you could trust Xiao with everything, most importantly your life, and he'd guard it as his most treasured possession. With him by your side, you finally felt safe for the first time in your life...
Tighnari
Working as a Forest Ranger has always been a lifelong dream of yours. Doing so with the love of your life by your side was that dream actually coming true to you. Sometimes, you just stare at Tighnari, wondering what you did to get so lucky to have him as your partner. How you deserved him in the first place.
He always laughed a bit and softly reprimanded you, but he never did so with ill intent. When he did that, you could always see the genuine love he held for you in his eyes, clear as day.
When it came to your relationship, everything happened a bit slowly, as per Tighnari's request. Since his species only has one partner their entire life, he wants to make extra sure that this will work out.
You take your time with going on several dates, where he explains to you the basics of his kind, what to do and what not to do, with him and others of his kind. But nothing he told you ever scared you away from him. If anything, it made you fall for him even more.
Then came the day when he wanted you to meet his parents, before you were making things official with him. You were nervous to meet them, but luckily, his parents instantly took a liking to you, especially his mom. She was over the top with her sons choice in a partner and the both of them gave you two their blessings.
The day after, you finally made things official, telling everyone of your friends that you were dating, and everyone was congratulating you. Word also spread among the other Forest Rangers, and soon enough, you were also bombarded with congratulations from them, as well.
Life was going good, but there was one thing that Tighnari was still thinking about.
You've met his parents, but he's never once met yours. Matter of fact, you don't even talk about them all that much. He's asked you one or two questions about them, but he soon came to the conclusion that this wasn't a topic you were too fond to speak about.
He did ask you why that was, but when you only gave him vage answers and excuses, he dropped the topic, figuring that it wasn't too important anyways. The main issue was your relationship, not some outside opinion. He thought that you'd come around and tell him more once you felt ready to do so.
Unbeknownst to him, that day would arrive much sooner than he anticipated.
One day, as Tighnari was about to head out for one of his patrols, he noticed you standing at the entrance to Gandharva Ville that led to Sumeru City, talking to two figures he didn't recognize. He thought for a second before he decided to head over to see what was going on.
As he got closer, he began to pick up on some signs of distress coming from you, which already set him a bit off edge. Then, he picked up on the voices and realised that you were arguing with those two individuals. He didn't know what it was about, but that wasn't important.
".. you understand, (Name)? We only want the best for you, so-!"
"Excuse me. Is everything alright over here?", Tighnari interrupted the conversation, and as you turned around to him, he couldn't help but notice the relieved look on your face. He gave you a sympathetic look before turning back to the other two visitors, who looked upset at being interrupted so rudely.
"And who are you?", asked the man, while the woman nodded along with him. Before Tighnari could say anything, you were already at it.
"This is Tighnari, Leader of the Forest Rangers, and my boyfriend. Tighnari, those are my parents.", you said as you vaguely gestured with your hand between them.
Tighnari's eyes widened as he heard you introduce them. He cleared his throat before extending a hand to your parents. "It's nice to finally meet you."
However, instead of taking his hand, your father simply ignored him, while your mother looked at him for a second, before scoffing and focusing back on you. "Seriously, (Name)? You got involved with someone like him? You could do so much better for yourself.", your mother said, looking at Tighnari with disgust, specifically at his more animalistic features.
"..Excuse me?", Tighnari asked again, retracting his hand. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. When he looked back to you, he saw you gritting your teeth, yet when you spoke again, he heard the strain in your voice as you tried to remain polite with your parents.
"Like I already said, I'm happy with my life here. I'm happy with Tighnari. Nothing you do or say can change my mind about it."
"Quit being stupid already, (Name)! Now that your sister isn't taking over the family business anymore, we need you to come back and take over. We also found a suitable marriage candidate for you. If you would just-!"
"I said No!", you interrupted them again, this time however, all the politeness has left your tone.
"I know you only never bothered me about coming back till now, because you were betting on my sister to take over. You'd never force her to do the things you want her to do, but doing it to me is fine for you?
I'm done with that. I have my life here, doing what I always wanted to do, with the love of my life with me." To undermine your words, you stand next to Tighnari and take his hand in yours. The action fills him with pride, as well as the fact that you're standing up for him to your parents.
"So, you can either accept that fact, support me and still be a part of my life. Or, you can leave, and never bother any of us again."
You finish your little speech, your mother gasping at your words, but your father quickly takes her and ushers her away, leading them back to the city.
As the two walked away, you let out a deep breath, relief washing over you as they walked away. You were still holding onto Tighnari's hand when he spoke up again. "I take it that was why you didn't want me to meet them, am I right?"
"I'm so sorry about that. I know I should have told you, but I never wanted you to have to go through that. I already don't have a very good relationship with them, and I didn't want it to affect you, as well."
Hearing that, Tighnari smiled as he turned towards you to take you in his arms. "Thank you", he whispered into yours ear.
You nodded against him. You'd always stand up to your parents again, without another thought, if it meant you were doing it for him...
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin impact scenarios#wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x you#scaramouche x you#wanderer hurt/comfort#scaramouche hurt/comfort#xiao x reader#xiao x you#xiao hurt/comfort#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#tighnari hurt/comfort#wanderer x reader hurt/comfort#xiao x reader hurt/comfort#tighnari x reader hurt/comfort
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Covering the Classics Part 9 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: After Anna joins him for dinner, Bob knows he needs to accept that they really are just friends. Even though her kisses are perfection. Even though he's falling in love. But what's going to stop Anna when she realizes Bob's poems are very familiar to her?
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, Bob in gray sweatpants, eventually 18+
Length: 5700 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
Bob couldn't imagine a world in which he'd go to this much trouble to make the perfect dinner for a woman who he was falling in love with, only to hear her say the words just friends. But apparently it was the world he was living in, because he spent days comparing recipes from both Bradley and Jake, hoping to make something that Anna would find irresistible.
"You should make my lasagna," Jake said for the tenth time at work on Friday morning.
Bradley snorted. "Great idea, as long as you never want to see her again. Make my homemade pasta," he told Bob. "I already gave you the recipe."
Bob just kept nodding and agreeing with whatever they said, hoping they'd eventually be quiet. Anna was coming over tonight, and he still didn't have a solid plan in mind beyond trying to convince her he'd be worth her time. That it was okay to be more than friends.
While the guys argued, Bob got himself ready to get in the air with Phoenix. He must have looked flustered, because she rubbed her thumb gently across the back of his hand when he stood next to her in the hangar. "You seem nervous. Are you still trying to figure out what to make for dinner?"
"Yeah," he replied quietly.
"Oh, Bob. She's not going to care what you make. It could be a grilled cheese sandwich."
"I always burn those," he said with a small smile. "I just feel like this is pointless. I invited her over anyway even though I know she just wants to be friends, but I'm still standing here hoping for more. I shouldn't be doing this, even if we did makeout in her office."
Nat sighed and asked, "Do you want my grandma's recipe for bruschetta chicken? You liked it when you tried it at her house last summer, and it's not that hard to make."
His eyes lit up. "Please."
He'd only have a little bit of time to himself to prepare the meal and cook it before Anna came over, and he listened as Nat called her grandma and asked her to send it over. Before they were even called out of the hangar to start the day, he had a photo of the handwritten recipe in his phone.
"Nat, you're a lifesaver."
"Just save me some of the leftovers."
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Friday was going so well for Anna, she almost forgot to be nervous about dinner. She met with the dean to discuss how her classes were going, and he even brought up the word tenure which sent her into a giddy spiral where she treated herself to a candy bar from the vending machine which she couldn't really afford. She carried it out to eat lunch in the quad with her friends along with her regular, uninspired sandwich and ginger ale.
She hadn't mentioned a word about going to Bob's house for dinner, but she was absolutely certain both ladies knew about it. She almost found it comical the way they were trying to get her to say something about it, but Jessica was clearly ready to boil over.
"Hi," Anna greeted, biting into her Snickers bar as she settled on the bench between them. Advanced Calculus casually offered her some carrots and hummus while Jessica's cheeks started to grow a furious shade of pink.
"When were you going to tell us Bob invited you over for dinner tonight?" she exclaimed.
Anna shrugged and said, "I was probably just going to tell you about it on Monday since it's nothing because we are just friends. It's only as exciting as it would be if I went over to your place for dinner."
"That's exciting, too!" Jessica said. "You should absolutely come over for dinner! But you're wrong, because it's not as exciting as Bob cooking dinner for you!"
"Jess. Chill out," came the voice from Anna's other side. "She'll learn soon enough that dinner cooked by one of the Top Gun boys is essentially a marriage proposal on a plate. A very sexy and delicious marriage proposal. You and he will be sleeping together in no time."
Anna chewed up the last bite of her Snickers and shook her head. "You're both wrong. Bob and I are just friends. The dinner means nothing, and we're not going to sleep together."
"Oh, please!" Jessica was back to practically shouting now. "If you think he's actually okay with all the making out, then you've lost your mind. He doesn't want it to be meaningless. He likes you."
Anna looked at her feet. "I know he does. I like him too."
"Then stop stringing him along! I don't understand what the problem is here, Anna."
She sat quietly now, no longer feeling so great as she picked at her sandwich.
"Hey, I know Jess sounds like an excitable terrier, but maybe you need a little tough love," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot into the hummus. "You can talk to us, you know. You can tell us what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," Anna whispered as her mind flooded with thoughts of Kevin and what he might be up to at the moment.
Jess took a deep calming breath before she said, "There's just no good reason to put your dream man in the friend zone. And don't even try to lie and say Bob Floyd isn't perfection."
"He is," Anna whispered. Other than her infatuation with Sky Writing, Bob was the closest thing to a dream come true that she'd ever encountered before. But she did have her reasons, and she was too embarrassed to talk about it out loud. She was certain that Jess already knew her current financial state was in ruins, and it might be nice to have her friends understand where she was coming from, but she didn't want them to pity her. That was the last thing she needed right now. "You know what, I think I'm going to get ready for my next lecture."
She was on her feet and rushing away as her friends called after her, but she didn't stop walking until she reached her office. She was not going to cry over this, and she definitely didn't want to cancel on Bob. The only thing she could do to calm down was look at all of the books on her shelves, letting her gaze glide over the colorful spines. Then she read the note from Bob that was tucked in her copy of Papillon.
Freedom would feel like being so in love, you'd willingly let another person lock you to their side.
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Bob had a fully stocked kitchen filled with a nice set of pots and pans and sharp knives and anything else he could possibly want, but right now, it was like he'd never cooked anything before in his life. Nat's grandmother actually had atrocious handwriting, and he could barely make out the measurements in the photo he had to work with.
"Basil," he muttered to himself, grabbing the leafy greens from the cutting board and wondering why it looked like he was supposed to use three cups of them. "I didn't even buy that much!"
He took a deep breath and walked around his kitchen, trying to clear his head. Anna was going to grab an Uber. She would be arriving in about an hour with wine and dessert. He wanted to feed her the most delicious meal he could muster, but right now he was just looking at the chicken breast on the plate in front of him like he'd never seen food before.
And he just knew Jake and Bradley never had to work this hard for a woman in their lives. Jake could rely mostly on his looks if he wanted to, and Bradley was the luckiest person he knew, reuniting with the love of his life after ten years and getting married approximately a day later. "No," he whispered, "that's not fair to them." He knew he was wrong. He knew both of them worked to get where they ended up, and he shouldn't be putting himself down so much.
He glared at the chicken and picked up a knife. "This is fine. No problem." He had to fudge some of the measurements which made no sense, and he'd suggest to Nat that maybe her grandmother should take an eye exam, but the recipe really wasn't too terribly hard. Soon he had the browned chicken in the oven, and he set to work on the bruschetta topping and started boiling some water for the pasta. He was just adding another tablespoon of balsamic vinegar to the tomatoes and basil when he heard Anna's beautiful laughter.
Bob nearly knocked the bowl to the floor in his haste to get to her. After grabbing a dish towel for his hands, he rushed toward his front door and saw her on his porch. She was wearing a little sundress that he'd seen her in before with her worn out denim jacket over it, and he froze a few feet inside his screen door just so he could look at her. She was juggling a shopping bag and a bottle of wine, and that's when he realized she was talking to Suzanne.
"Oh, no, I'm not in the Navy," she was saying as she tossed her beautiful, red hair over her shoulder. "I'm a professor at San Diego State University. My name's Anna."
She stretched her hand out, and then Bob heard Suzanne's voice. "I'm Suzanne, and that's my cat, Sylvester. I must say, I had no idea Robert got himself a girlfriend. And such a pretty one!"
He desperately wanted to interrupt their conversation before he could hear what Anna's response was going to be, but he just couldn't. She was standing there in the last rays of the setting sun, blushing as she said, "Bob and I are actually just friends. Just good friends."
There was a beat of silence before Suzanne laughed. "Have you seen him? And he's even sweeter than he is handsome!"
Anna was laughing nervously, and Bob's heart was pounding, but he opened the screen door to bail her out anyway. "Hey," he greeted as naturally as he could, and then Anna's apprehensive gaze met his. God, all he wanted to do was drag her inside, push her up against his living room wall and kiss until she realized he wasn't going to hurt her.
"Bob," she whispered, taking a small step in his direction. Her eyes were wide and perceptive, like she could read his every thought on his face. She cleared her throat and said, "I brought wine and some cookies."
Helpless to do much of anything else, he smiled at her. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he leaned further out the door and said, "Hi, Suzanne."
His next door neighbor looked delighted as she glanced between him and Anna. "I was just talking to your charming friend here, Robert. Cooking dinner for someone certainly sounds romantic to me."
Bob was gripping the door frame as he watched Anna's face fill with panic. Then she blurted out, "Why doesn't Suzanne join us?"
-------------------------------
The only thing Anna could think to do was sabotage the dinner she'd been looking forward to all week. She watched Bob's face fall slightly as he realized she invited his next door neighbor to join them for a very platonic dinner. And since Bob was the sweetest man Anna had ever met, he recovered immediately, turned to Suzanne and said, "You're more than welcome."
Ten minutes later, Bob was opening the bottle of cheap wine she'd brought while Anna watched the veins in his hands. He was graceful and lovely, and Suzanne was talking nonstop as he poured three glasses. She had nobody to blame but herself for inviting a third wheel along. The older woman was really more of a safety net. Someone to prevent Anna from kissing Bob. Someone to stop her from falling completely in love with him.
The whole house smelled amazing, and she knew this dinner was supposed to be just for her. She hadn't eaten a real meal like this, other than at the cookout, in months and months. The first bite of chicken, bruschetta and pasta was delicious enough that she moaned softly. Bob watched her take a second bite, and it was incredible. The third bite left her staring at him in wonder.
"You're the best cook in the world," Anna informed him, cutting across Suzanne talking about her cat. She didn't even care if she was being rude, the food was perfect. And it would have somehow been even better if the two of them were alone.
Bob blushed and took a sip of the wine that Anna wished was better than it was. "Thanks. Uh, it was a new recipe. I've never made it before tonight."
Suzanne took a bite and said, "Robert is an excellent cook and a real gentleman. He always makes sure I have groceries, and he picks up a little something for me if he gets dinner on his way home from work."
As Bob's cheeks grew redder, Anna's heart beat faster. "A real gentleman," she echoed, knowing he'd take care of anyone who needed something.
"Yes," Suzanne said. "You don't see many of them around. Never seen many myself."
Neither had Anna, and after she blew her life to bits, she'd probably never see one again. She listened to Bob and Suzanne talk about their favorite game shows, and she cleaned her plate before either of them had finished. All of the toast and sad sandwiches she'd been eating weren't really cutting it, and she knew that. She also didn't want to get another piece of chicken and seem like a mooch.
"Can I get you more?" Bob asked as he stood on the opposite side of the table in his worn jeans and snug white shirt. "There's plenty left."
Anna shook her head, but he reached for her plate anyway. While he was in the kitchen, Suzanne quickly finished eating and downed the rest of her wine. Softly, just for Anna to hear, she said, "He is a very nice man. I hope I see you around here in a less friendly capacity." Then she called out, "Robert? I need to go. I hear Sylvester outside bugging for food. Thanks for dinner, and enjoy your evening."
"Night, Suzanne," he replied, and the older woman bustled off without another word, leaving Anna alone with Bob when he returned with two plates refilled with food. "She's a character."
Anna laughed, but she could tell Bob was hesitant to say too much now. Probably because she'd dashed the mood in the first place. "I'm sorry I suggested she join us," she told him sincerely, shaking her head. "All week long, I'd been looking forward to talking about books with you."
As she poked at her chicken, afraid of what he was going to say, he said, "Once you finish eating, I could show you my books. I don't have as many as you do, but maybe there's something you'd like to borrow in the mix. And then I'll drive you home."
"I can get an Uber," she insisted, taking another bite of the perfectly cooked dinner.
"And I can just as easily drive you."
He was a gentleman. She wasn't going to leave here in an Uber no matter what she said. "Alright."
----------------------------
"You have books in every room!" Anna exclaimed as she walked around his house nibbling on a cookie. The wine she brought was kind of terrible, and so were the grocery store cookies, but Bob didn't mind. She ate two full plates of the dinner he cooked, and now that Suzanne was gone, she seemed more herself.
"I have a system," he insisted as she sat down on his living room floor to inspect a stack of paperbacks.
"I'm not buying it," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.
"Try me. The living room is poetry. The extra bedroom is mysteries. The dining room is true crime."
"What's in your bedroom?" she asked, flipping through a collection by Robert Frost.
Bob wanted to tell her that his bedroom was where he wrote his own poetry. And that they had begun to turn into a collection all about her. "Romance," he said.
She laughed softly, such a pretty sound. "I'm assuming you don't have any Vonnegut? No soul massacring, unhappy endings?"
"None," he promised. "You won't find any of those around here."
She was skimming a page as she muttered, "Good. I've had enough of that anyway." Then she stood and carried the Frost poems to another small pile on his coffee table. She rooted around and pulled out a volume by Walt Whitman before asking, "Could I borrow these two?"
Bob was admiring how perfect she looked in his house when she met his eyes with her pretty brown ones. "Of course," he said, dropping down onto the couch as he finished his own cookie. "Anything you want."
She stood and carried the books over to her purse before sitting down a few feet away from him. "What I want is to help you organize your books for real. Have you ever heard of a bookshelf before?"
"Never," he replied innocently. "What's that?"
She laughed and scooted a little closer. "You know those big, wooden things that were holding all the books when we met at that store in North Park? Remember that day?"
He knew she was just joking around, but as he memorized the pattern of her freckles, he said, "I will never forget that day."
Once again, Anna initiated the kiss, and once again, Bob was helpless to pump the brakes. She leaned in close with her hand on his knee and brushed her lips against his. It was so sweet, he was almost able to ask her to stop. Even though it felt too good, he was nearly able to tell her he couldn't do this. But being tortured was worth it. That was the worst part.
He let her do what she wanted, and her soft hands found their way to his face, knocking his glasses askew on their way into his hair. He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid he'd lose himself in these kisses that meant so much more to him than they did to her. He counted to ten slowly in his mind, savoring every touch and taste, letting Anna settle against his thigh. Then he broke the kiss, leaving her hovering there, surprise on her face.
She pressed her lips together, and turned her face toward his front door. "I'll never forget that day either."
He nodded as her hands fell away from his hair and his face, and he whispered, "Grab the books you want to borrow, and I'll drive you home."
----------------------------
"He's a gentleman," Anna groaned in her bed on the floor of her tiny apartment the following morning. It was Saturday, and she didn't have much she needed to accomplish today which would leave her plenty of time to think about the drive home in Bob's truck and the way he walked her to her door. She didn't kiss him again, but he always seemed to be close enough that she could feel his body heat in the chilly night air. Even now, when she grabbed at some strands of her hair, she swore she could still smell his fresh scent there.
She needed to get out. She grabbed her phone and took the longest walk imaginable. Her legs were burning by the time she stopped in a corner store for something to eat for lunch, but the sandwich was almost as bad as the ones she had been making for herself. Nothing would be as good as what Bob cooked, and he served it up last night like it was no big deal at all.
As Anna started the long walk back to her apartment, she groaned while she blasted her music. She had invited his elderly neighbor to join them for dinner, and then she had kissed him again. She was so embarrassing. She'd never been like this when she was in New Jersey, never doing the most mortifying things over and over.
She didn't go home for a long time. She walked through an enormous park and looked at a fountain while she daydreamed about all of her unfinished manuscripts. When that started to hurt too much, she watched the storm clouds that were rolling in from the coast and thought it might be nice to get soaking wet. Then a few fat raindrops started to hit her face as she realized that she wouldn't be able to replace her phone if it got destroyed.
"Damn it," she muttered, starting to run through the park under the cover of the trees. The sky was quickly getting darker as she tried to stay under awnings and overhangs as much as possible until she reached her apartment building. Her clothing was soaked, but her phone was still in working order when she ran inside, dripping all over the welcome mat in the small entryway.
She desperately wanted to cry, but that wouldn't solve anything, so she took a long shower instead. She washed and braided her hair, and then she painted her nails. When she finally picked up her phone again, she had a new message from Bob.
Bob Floyd: Taking your advice and buying one of those bookshelves? Was that what they were called? Which one do you think is better?
He had attached two screenshots of nice looking shelves from Ikea that she'd never be able to afford at the moment. She smiled as she typed back to him while she heated up a can of soup for dinner.
Yes, they are called bookshelves. Are you sure you know how to use them? I like the navy blue one better.
The flavorless chicken noodle soup went well with Anna's mood as she sat on the floor and watched a show on her phone. Part of her wanted to know what her friends were up to, but she didn't want to have to tell them about last night. She knew Bob and Jess would be going out to play Dungeons & Dragons soon anyway, but she dropped her spoon in the bowl when Bob wrote back again.
Bob Floyd: I think I'll pick it up tomorrow and make it my rainy Sunday project. Feel like helping me build it?
"Oh, Anna. Don't."
-------------------------------
Bob pulled up to Anna's building on Sunday afternoon after stopping to pick up the shelf. It had been pouring rain since last night, and he had to wrap his new furniture box in a tarp to protect it in the bed of his truck. But this would be a great way to spend the afternoon. He could make two cups of tea, and she could help him organize his books. They didn't need to kiss anymore. He would see to it that they didn't. He could handle this whole thing without issue.
He left his truck idling at the curb, and Anna came running outside like she'd been waiting for him. He grabbed his umbrella and met her halfway, shouting, "I was going to walk up and get you!" over the sound of the rain. She joined him under the umbrella, her denim jacket pretty wet as she shrugged.
"The rain's okay. It reminds me of New Jersey."
Once he opened the door and helped her scramble in, he ran around to the other side of the truck. He was barely able to find a dry spot on his shirt so he could wipe off his glasses, and when he yanked the hem up, he could feel Anna's eyes on his body. There was no sense in feeling self conscious about the way he looked now, because nothing else was going to happen. Last night had to be the end of that.
"You ready?" he asked, cranking the key in the ignition when she nodded. His wipers were going full speed as he drove her back to his house for the second visit in one weekend. "Thanks for helping with this. I kind of realized that having everything on one big shelf makes more sense. Especially if I keep borrowing books from you."
Her laugh was soft as she said, "If you don't borrow my books, then nobody will."
"Same goes for mine," he replied easily as he headed toward the beach. "But don't you dare dog ear my pages."
Now she laughed louder. "I read most of Whitman last night before I fell asleep, and there's nary a bent page in sight."
"That's what I like to hear." When he pulled up in front of his house, he handed her the umbrella and his keys. "Go ahead and let yourself in, and I'll unload the box."
She just gaped at him in response and asked, "Don't you need help carrying it?"
"Nah," he replied, popping his door open, "I can get it."
Bob struggled a little bit with the tarp before sliding the massive box closer to the edge of the truck tailgate. Every movement was made slower by the pounding rain in his face, but he managed to tip it into his arms. It was heavy, but not too bad, and his grip on the wet cardboard was good enough for him to get it inside the house. Anna was standing on the porch, holding open his screen door with the umbrella folded up at her feet, and he accidentally brushed against her with his arm as he maneuvered himself through the door.
"Sorry."
"It's okay," she said, her voice a little breathy as she let the screen door close and helped him prop the box against the wall. "This is massive."
"I guess now I can buy more books," he said with his hands on his hips while he dripped all over the place. "I'm going to get changed quickly, and then we can build the shelf and organize it, and then I'll make dinner."
Her eyes lit up. "You'll make dinner again?"
"Yeah. I was going to see if I can attempt a grilled cheese without burning it. I'll be right back." And then he headed upstairs to his bedroom where he had clean undershirts, some sweatpants and all of his favorite books.
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Anna was halfway through unboxing and organizing the shelf pieces on the floor when Bob walked back downstairs. She'd removed her denim jacket, and her leggings and tank top were mostly dry, and she'd settled on the floor with the instruction book. "It looks like we'll need a screwdriver or a drill...."
Her sentence tapered off when she looked up at Bob just casually standing there in one of his white shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants and neatly combed, damp hair. The ability to speak escaped her.
"I can grab my toolbox," he told her, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants before disappearing toward the kitchen. She needed to lie down. She stretched out on the floor and stared at the ceiling as rain pelted the window next to her.
"Oh my god," she whispered before biting down on her lip. She wanted him. She liked every damn thing about him, and then he had to look and smell and sound so good on top of it all. The Walt Whitman poems weren't the only thing she had read last night. Sky Writing's words from her favorite poems were also in her mind, and she couldn't shake them. Anna had just rolled into her side, staring at the instructions without actually seeing them, when he walked back in.
"Are you okay?"
"Great," she said, voice raspy. She was in fact not great. She was the opposite of great. When Bob handed her the toolbox and said he was going to make two mugs of tea, she took the time to pull herself together. Sweaty palms glided along her leggings, and she read the instructions through. It seemed simple enough, and she had the hardware in order by the time Bob returned with two steaming mugs.
"Thanks," she whispered as he settled onto the floor next to her. She knew this was how good things would be if she could date Bob. Hot tea and homemade meals and someone around who loved books. "You're really sweet."
He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea, so Anna did the same. It was raining so hard, she couldn't tell if what she heard was thunder or not, but inside Bob's house, everything was warm and cozy. "Let's get started," he finally said, leaning in front of her to set his mug on the windowsill.
They spoke quietly, mostly about the shelf, while she handed him hardware and tools. Anna found herself distracted as she watched his hair dry and lighten in color as they worked together. Every bump of his muscular arm against hers felt intentional, but she couldn't tell for sure, and she was too afraid to ruin this friendship beyond repair. Especially after what her friends had told her at lunch on Friday.
"I need the screwdriver," he said, bumping her gently with his elbow as he held two perpendicular pieces of wood in place.
"I can get it," she replied, finally refocused on the task before her. "I'll screw it in." She tried to reach in front of him, but he was too tall. When he moved his arms a little further apart, she popped up between them so she was standing between his body and the shelf. "I'll only take a second."
She could feel Bob's warm breath against her ear, and all he could think was that she would fit perfectly in his arms if he decided to just drop what he was holding and wrap them around her instead. "Take your time," he murmured, because of course his arms wouldn't get tired in this position. She fumbled the screw. His body was immaculate, and it was all she could think about as he exhaled and tickled her hair.
"I'm trying," she whispered, fumbling the screw again. Finally she had it in place, and Bob released the shelf, but he didn't move away from her.
"Think you can screw the last two in as well? Then we'll be done."
She nodded and decided to go slower, savor this tiny bit of intimacy and pretend he was hers. Then it was done.
"It looks good."
She barely had to turn to look at him over her shoulder. "It's a nice shelf. How do you want to arrange your books?"
He was still standing close as he said, "Poetry on the top? Since it's my favorite?"
"Yeah," she told him with a laugh. "Banish it to the top where nobody but you can reach it."
He cocked his head and leaned in closer. "Are you insulting the poetry or commenting on my height?"
"A bit of both," she replied right away. The living was darker now from the storm and from the time of day, but she could see his smile perfectly.
"Come on, Anna. We both know you love the poetry. You borrowed two volumes the other day."
She only hummed in response before ducking away from him and reaching for a stack of his books. She handed them to him one at a time, commenting on them like she was giving each a bad review. "Oh, this one is too flowery. Too many words and no substance." She handed him another after he shelved the first one. "This author put all their best works at the beginning of the collection. The second half is terrible."
Bob chuckled as she picked up a book that she knew was a favorite of his. "Hey, you better watch what you say about that one."
She waved it in the air, unable to reach the top shelf, and he snatched it out of her hand. "I'm going to be brutally honest," she said softly, and Bob's hand rested on her back almost like a warning. "I loved it."
He smiled and let his fingers trail along her back as he nodded toward the stairs. "Want to help me tackle the mystery books in the extra bedroom?"
"Sure," she told him, leading the way to the steps. "But first, you have to tell me why you like poetry so much."
"What's not to like?" he replied as she started up. "All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."
Anna's steps slowed a little as she considered his words. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"
"Uh. I did. Yeah."
Truly, she loved reading poetry, but she didn't have much of a knack for writing it. She didn't even think she was good enough for PoetsAmongUs. "What's something you've written?"
Bob laughed, and Anna stumbled on the top step as he said, "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."
She gripped the banister to keep herself upright, and then she spun and sat down hard on the top step. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe. She knew those words intimately. She knew the whole fucking poem by heart. She knew everything else he had written as well, because she'd been reading his poetry for years.
"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her, hands gentle on her ankle and leg.
"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"
"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her face. "You're Sky Writing."
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BOB IS SKY WRITING, ANNA. What the hell are you going to do now, babe? Please, make good choices. Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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